


Of Kings and Knights

by Joan_of_Arc



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 03:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 31,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4987645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joan_of_Arc/pseuds/Joan_of_Arc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unexpected events change the course of the War of the Five Kings: Sansa flees King’s Landing with The Hound during the battle of Blackwater Bay, things do not go as planned when Catelyn meets with Renly, and the Kingslayer is not safe at the dungeons in Riverrun. The King in the North has important decisions to make.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I am no Ser (The Hound)

**Author's Note:**

> This story will contain a sort of relationship between Sansa and The Hound. It will NOT be romantic of any kind. I respect all ships, but I just bring myself to write a romantic (let alone sexual) relationship between a sweet naïve young teenager and a forty-something-year-old man. I’m sorry, I just can’t see them together … Their bond will be somewhat different. 
> 
> Also, this story will contain graphic descriptions of violence – though if you watch the series or have read the books, the warning is pointless.

_“Please ser, stop!” the girl pleaded. But he didn’t listen. He wouldn’t. The girl was his, or so his brother had said. Gregor. How he hated his brother! What he had put him through, what he had made him suffer, what he had turned him into. “Please ser, stop!” she had kept repeating. But he never did. Sweet little bird, no more than fifteen years of age he had reckoned. Pale skin, hair the color of mud, dark brown eyes. “Please ser, stop!” but his ears were deaf. “I am no ser.”_

 

“Please, Your Grace stop!” her desperate plea brought Sandor Clegane out of his reverie. How many times had he stood by his King as he abused and tormented this little girl? How many more times will he have to? The Courtroom was full of highborn lords and ladies obediently nodding to their boy King. Nobody dared utter a word of dissent, nobody even cared probably. What was this wretched girl to them? Nothing but the daughter of a traitor who had had the nerve to imply Joffrey was not the rightful heir. Yes, he had heard the rumours: Queen Cersei and her brother the Kingslayer had been fucking for years and had sired not only King Joffrey, but apparently Myrcella and Tommen as well. But what did he care? What difference did it make to him who wore the crown over their heads? Joffrey had made him a member of the Kingsguard. Did he deserve it? Probably not. _I am no ser_.

 

“Please Your Grace. I had nothing to do with my traitorous father!” the girl cried as Meryn Trant kicked her again. She was curled up on the floor, her dress torn to shreds exposing her bare back to the mocking crowd in the Hall.

“And your brother?” the smug boy King retorted. “Did you know he is ravaging my lands? Him and his wolf. They say they are one and the same. He turns into his wolf at night and pillages my towns and kills my loyal subjects. I guess it’s a good thing we killed your wolf before we got to King’s Landing. It would have been no use having such a savage creature roaming the streets of our fair city. What do you say?” he asked the members of his court. All the men cheered in agreement while many ladies gasped at the mention of such wild beast. “What do you have to say for your traitorous brother who raised up arms against his lawful King?”

“I have nothing to say, Your Grace” the poor girl replied. “He is a traitor and deserves none of your mercy, Your Grace” she continued with tears in her eyes.

“Then, for you, my love, I shall bring you his head” King Joffrey replied.

“Or maybe he’ll bring me yours” she muttered quietly to herself.

“What did you say!?” Joffrey taunted the girl. “What did you say!?” and he instructed Meryn Trant to beat the girl again.

“Nothing Your Grace” she managed to reply.

“Hound, be a good dog and take her away. Take her to her chambers.”

 

Sandor Clegane, removed his cloak and gently covered the girl with it as he helped her get on her feet. “Come little bird” he softly told her.

 

They were on the way to her apartments when they passed by the battlements. Looking up they could still see Lord Eddard Stark’s head on a spike, his eyes gone, his face pecked on by the birds.

 

“Don’t look up, little bird” he cautioned her.

“Why not? He was a traitor, he deserved it” she replied coldly.

“You know better than that. You do not need to lie to me. You know as much as I do your father does not deserve to be there. I know you wish that were Joffrey’s head on that spike. I know what you said at the courtroom and I don’t blame you. You’re doing your best to survive, Lady Stark”

“There is only one Lady Stark, and that is my mother”

“True, and hopefully you’ll see her again one day, Lady Sansa” he said as he took out a small handkerchief and gently wiped the blood from her split lip. “But in the meantime, you have to survive. Do what you must. Give in if you have to. Save yourself some pain, little girl. Just give him what he wants”

“Why do you help me?”

“I am not helping you little bird”

“But you re always kind to me, Ser.”

“I am no Ser”

 

After locking Sansa in her chamber, the Hound hesitated whether to return to the Courtroom or go to the tavern. Ale was always good medicine for that sick feeling Joffrey always caused on him. So ale it was. Fuck Joffrey! Fuck the King! Fuck his duty!

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think so far? 
> 
> Next chapter we'll see Robb and Catelyn ... The POV in the chapters will alternate between the characters and they will come together at some points. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	2. The King in the North (Catelyn)

She had to get out of that tent. She couldn’t breathe, she was choking, she was dying inside. All this talk of vows, revenge, justice, war, and death was pointless. Ned was dead and a thousand years of wars and a thousand heads rolling in revenge would not bring him back. She had her own vows to keep; vows of family.

 

She made her way out of the tent and into the woods, out of the prying eyes of her son’s bannermen. She needed to be alone. The sooner she could leave behind their polite bows and nods, the better. They meant well, but she didn’t need their pity, she needed her Ned. It was not until she found herself alone surrounded by the trees that she let herself go. Unable to support her weight, her walls collapsed and were it not for the trees holding her upright she would have fallen to the ground. She surrendered to her grief and let her tears flow free …

 

… And then she saw him, her son. For a brief moment she had forgotten she was not the only one who had lost someone. Looking at her son she did not see the Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North, proud son of Lord Eddard Stark, she just saw her young son who needed her help and her support. With the strike of a sword she had become a widow, but Robb had become a fatherless frightened little boy. Just like her, he had sought refuge in the privacy of the woods, but while she used the trees for support, he was taking his anger and frustration out on the trees beating his sword senselessly against the trunks. She had to be strong for him. She allowed herself a few seconds of grief to let it all out. Then she dutifully dried her tears and strengthened her resolve as she walked towards her son.

 

“You’ve ruined your sword” she said softly. Mother and son looked at each other and no more words were needed. She opened her arms and welcomed him into her embrace. She tousled his Tully auburn curls and kissed his forehead. She wished she could say “this is just a nightmare, go back to sleep” like she had done a dozen times back at Winterfell when he would wake up in the middle of the night and crawl to her bed. But this was not a nightmare they could wake up from.

“I’ll kill them all” Robb swore in between sobs, “Everyone of them.”

“They have your sisters, we have to get the girls back” she replied, her gaze lost in the distance. “And then we will kill them all”

 

A council had been called that evening. Now that Lord Eddard Stark was dead, the Northern army had to decide on the next course of action. The boy sitting on the Iron Throne, Joffrey, was not the rightful heir, that was plain to see to all the members of the Council. Karstark had spat on the floor as he mentioned his name: “in-bred bastard, born of incest”. To the calls of “brother-fucker” and “dirty oath-breaker” insults kept raining down for Cersei and Jamie Lannister. They would not bend the knee to Joffrey, that was for sure. Should they declare for Stannis or for Renly? Stannis certainly had the claim being the oldest surviving brother of Robert Baratheon, but Renly had a much better army. _War. Revenge. Traitors. Sword. Blood. Crown. Iron Throne_. All these words sounded hollow to Catelyn.

 

“Why not peace?” she finally said. She felt all eyes on her, but she only cared for her son’s.

“They killed my father, your husband. This is the only peace I have for the Lannisters” he claimed raising his sword eliciting more cheers and angry yells from his bannermen.

“Lord Eddard was your liege Lord” she continued looking at the men in the hall “but I shared his bed and bore his children. Do you think I love him any less? He is gone and killing all the Lannisters and their offspring will not bring him back, nor all the other good men we have lost.”

“You are a woman, the gentle sex” they replied.

“Give me Cersei Lannister I’ll show you how gentle I can be. Perhaps I don’t understand war and strategy, but I do understand futility. We fought to defend our lands and win Ned’s freedom. One is done, the other forever beyond our reach. I will mourn Ned till the end of my days, but I want to do it safely inside the walls of my home with my sons and daughters by my side. Robb, I want for us to go home, for you to lead a long and happy life ruling from your seat in Winterfell. Let’s trade. Let’s give them the Kingslayer and the rest of the prisoners. Let’s get Sansa and Arya and all our men back and go home to our families.” Silence followed her long tirade. _I have them. They have listened. We’re going home._

“Peace is sweet” her uncle said. “But on what terms?”

“I want my revenge” a voice spoke out.

“They killed my sons” said another one.

“Joffrey, Renly, Stannis. Here is what I say to these Kings” Lord Umber’s gruff voice said. “Renly Baratheon is nothing to me. Nor Stannis, neither. Why should they rule over me and mine from some flowery seat in the south? What do they know of the war? Or the Wolfswood? Even their gods are wrong” he added to the amusement of his audience. “Why shouldn’t we rule ourselves again? There sits the only King I mean to bend my knee to” and pointed at Robb with his unsheathed sword. “The King in the North!”

“The King in the North!” echoed in the Hall as all the rest of the Lords bowed and knelt before Robb.

“The King in the North!”

 

Robb looked both confused and proud. Yet, Catelyn couldn’t be more apprehensive. _So close_ , she thought. _I was so close._

 

They would go back to war, back to the uncertainty of fighting. She had already lost her husband. Her daughters were prisoners. Well, Sansa was at any rate, she had no idea what had become of Arya. Bran was broken lying on a bed in Winterfell and Rickon ... Rickon was too young to understand any of this. What had happened to her family? How could things fall apart so fast?

 

The chants of “King in the North were drowning her thoughts. Abruptly, she got up and left the Hall under the stare of most men and the scrutiny of her son.

 

 

“You left” said Robb as soon as he opened the flap to Catelyn’s tent hours later.

“My voice was not heard” came her quiet reply. She was sitting at the table, her back to her son. “Congratulations, Your Grace” she added belatedly.

“You know, you’re supposed to face your King and bow, mother” he replied softly and without malice. He approached her and saw the jar of wine on the table and her hand resting on a glass. The drops of wine on the table and the sweet smell surrounding his mother told him that she had probably had more than just one glass. “What’s this?” he asked snatching the glass from her hand. “Have you been drinking? You don’t drink mother!”

“Oh, I do, my son. I’m a grown woman” she slurred.

“Mother,” he started kneeling in front of her “you don’t drink. I have lived with you all my life and I have never seen you drink but on a feast or the occasional glass of wine with father over dinner.”

“But your father is dead now, and most likely Arya and Sansa, as well”

“We’ll get them back mother” he promised. “We will, I swear, and we’ll avenge father.”

“I don’t want vengeance” she replied venomously. “I want him back”

“We can’t get father back, mother, but we can get Arya and Sansa. And for that I need you.”

“You need me?” she confronted him. “You obviously had no need of me back in that Hall, Your Grace” she spat with a mocking bow.

“Mother, you’re drunk, and I can’t say I blame you” he said softly and took her hand. “But I do need you. We’re going to negotiate with Renly Baratheon. I need for you to meet with him and negotiate in my stead.”

“Me? You have dozens of trustworthy Lords you can send. Why me?”

“I have dozens of trustworthy Lords, yes, but who do I trust more than you? Who knows better than you how much we need to win this so we can get my sisters back?”

“No, Robb, I need to go home and be with Bran and Rickon.”

“Bran and Rickon are safe, mother. Please.”

“I haven’t seen my babies in months, I need to go back. Besides, I haven’t seen Renly since he was a little boy, I wouldn’t even know what to say.”

“Mother, I am asking you, please. I do not want to make it an order.”

“But you will if you have to” she challenged him sobering up.

“No, I won’t. The choice is yours.” They locked eyes for the longest time.

“When do you want me to leave?” she finally acquiesced.

“Tomorrow morning” he replied taking the wine and putting it away. “You’re travelling with Ser Wendel Manderly.”

“Has everything been arranged already?” When he nodded she added “How did you know I was going to accept?”

“Because I know you Mother” he smiled back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll stay with Catelyn for a while as she visits Renly ... Then we'll go back to Sansa and The Hound.


	3. A Kinslayer (Catelyn)

Weighed down by the pain in her heart and worry over what lay ahead, the journey to Bitterbridge had been very tiresome. For Robb, for her daughters, and for her two little ones she would do this. She would negotiate with Renly Baratheon, get him to join forces with Robb and together be done with this bloody war. All she wanted to do was finish this as soon as she could and go back home with her children.

 

Catelyn had not seen Renly in years, and was not pleasantly surprised when she saw him again: surrounded by his colourful entourage playing at jousts and silly tournaments. _Knights of Summer_ , she called them. _My son is fighting a war and these bloody fools are playing at war. If only they knew what war was …_

 

“Lady Stark” Renly greeted her.

“Lord Renly” she replied.

“King Renly” a stern voice sounded behind her. As Catelyn turned she was surprised to see the knight she had just witnessed win the tournament. Tall and big the knight looked frightening enough, but without the helmet all Catelyn could focus on was the fact that this knight was a woman.

“It’s all right, Lady Brienne” Renly intervened. “I am sure Lady Stark meant no disrespect. What brings you here, my lady?”

“I have a proposition from my son, King Robb”

“Oh, so were are all Kings now, this is so much fun!” he joked.

“This is no joke, Lord Renly. Need I remind you that we are at war?” Catelyn scolded him.

“You will treat my King with respect!” the knight intervened again, her hand on the pommel of her sword.

“No need for that Lady Brienne” Renly stopped her again. “I am sure Lady Stark meant no disrespect. Isn’t that right, my Lady?” he addressed Catelyn.

“Yes, Your Grace.” Catelyn nodded respectfully.

 

They made their way to Renly’s tent where Catelyn was introduced to Renly’s wife Margaery Tyrell and her brother Loras Tyrell, Head of Renly’s Kingsguard. As per Robb’s instructions, Catelyn presented the terms of an alliance: join forces against the Lannisters, reclaim the Iron Throne, and then divide the Kingdom: Renly could keep the South and Robb would keep the North.

 

Renly seemed to be considering her terms when they were suddenly interrupted by a squire; Stannis’s army had been spotted marching on to their camp. Renly decided the best course of action would be for all three to meet together: Catelyn, himself and his brother.

 

 

“Good to see you brother” Renly greeted Stannis. “New banner?” he asked pointing at the fiery heart that enveloped the stag in Stannis’s flag. “What’s with the fire?”

“The Lord of Light is our guide” replied the Red Priestess next to Stannis. “R’hllor will provide us the necessary power to overcome our obstacles” she added and the ruby on her neck started to glow.

“Am I an obstacle, brother?” Renly challenged.

“You don’t need to be if you take back your nonsense of a claim and bend the knee to me”

“Look at my army, why should I bend my knee?” he gestured towards his camp.

“Because with Robert having no trueborn sons, as his older brother I am the rightful heir!”

“Oh, rightful heir you may be, but nobody wants you as their King, my brother” he said with a mocking smile. “So, here we are, three Kings: You, me and King Robb, the so-called King in the North” he laughed. “How do we settle this?”

“If you don’t retract your claim, we fight!” Stannis challenged him.

“Should I clad myself in armour and fight in my son’s stead?” an exasperated Catelyn intervened. “Look at yourselves, your parents would be ashamed! Were you my sons I would lock you up until you made up.”

“Oh, be careful brother, Lady Stark here is going to send us to bed without supper” Renly joked. “But she’s right. Why don’t you go back to your camp, meditate on what we can achieve together and we’ll meet again tomorrow and talk – all three of us.” he proposed.

 

 

From what she had seen today, Catelyn realized neither brother would want to acknowledge Robb as King in the North. She might have a better chance with Renly, she thought. She had to get him on her side before they met with Stannis again. She made her way to his tent and found him with this lady knight she had met earlier. She was helping him out of his armour. Catelyn had seen squires and guards tending to their Lords – or King in this case – but never with such devotion. _Could she be in love with him?_ This woman puzzled her. With armour and helmet she looked no different from the GreatJon, yet, without the helmet, her eyes and expression implied something else. _I have never seen the GreatJon look at Robb that way_ , she chuckled to herself.

 

“Lady Stark, what can I do for you?” Renly asked with his customary pleasant demeanor.

“Lord Renly” and before the Lady knight could say anything she corrected herself “King Renly, I come here to insist you join forces with my son.”

“Against my brother?”

“No, against our common enemy, the Lannisters. Let us all join forces: you, your brother, and my son.”

“Your proposition makes sense, my lady, but only in the short term. How do we divide the Realm after the war is done? And I don’t think my brother would accept it.”

“Then it is our job to convince him. We should…” and a strong wind interrupted her thoughts.

 

An ominous silence filled the tent and a whirlwind started to form at the entrance. A black shadow suddenly emerged and made its way to Renly. The shadow had a human face, but Catelyn could not place the features, or rather she refused to. _No, it can’t be that. It is not possible_. All of a sudden, a long spike protruded from the side of the shadow. The spike became longer and thinner. A sword. The human-faced shadow was holding a sword and was menacingly making its way to Renly. Too dumbfounded to move, the three people in the tent just stood in awe of what they were witnessing. Their silence and stillness was interrupted by Renly’s surprised gasp. The shadow had thrust its sword into Renly’s body and the young man started to collapse. The lady knight held him before he hit the floor and with tears in her eyes she started to wipe the blood off her King’s chest. She did not see the shadow make a lunge for her.

“Lady Brienne!” Catelyn warned and quickly grabbed a torch and attacked the shadow.

 

The dark shadow burst into flames with an angry squeal and vanished into thin air, its ashes falling to the floor.

 

“It was Stannis, he killed Renly!” Brienne said.

“I don’t know what it was, but as soon as someone comes in here, it will be us who killed him. We need to get out of here!” Catelyn urged the young knight.

“No, I can’t leave him. He’s my King.”

“A dead King!”

“I need to take care of him. I need to avenge him”

“You can’t avenge him if you’re dead. Let’s go!”

 

But before they were able to get up and leave, soldiers entered the tent.

“They killed King Renly” one of the soldiers shouted.

 

However hard they pleaded innocence, their cries were not heard. Both Catelyn and Brienne were arrested and imprisoned. “You have been charged with the murder of King Renly.” Nobody believed their story of a shadow with Stannis’s face. _How could they? I wouldn’t believe it either,_ Catelyn thought ruefully.

 

A trial was set for the following day – the verdict a foregone conclusion. _Will they execute us? Will I die here miles away from my children? Will my family think me a Kingslayer?_ Catelyn’s musings were interrupted by a stern voice. “As captain of the guard of King Renly, I, ser Loras Tyrell, find Lady Catelyn Stark and Lady Brienne of Tarth guilty of the murder of our gracious King Renly Baratheon. Lady Catelyn, because you are a highborn lady and a Tully, a family who has never done us any harm, you will be kept as prisoner. Lady Brienne, as a member of Renly’s guard, your crime and betrayal is twice as serious. You shall be executed this evening.”

“But she didn’t kill him” Catelyn pleaded.

“Did you do it then, my Lady?” Loras retorted.

“No, we’ve told you, it was …”

“.. a shadow with Stannis’s face?” Loras interrupted. “You repeat that cock and bull story one more time and you shall be executed next to this traitor” he threatened.

“I demand a trial by combat” Brienne suddenly challenged.

 

Her challenge was accepted and Loras himself acted as Renly’s champion. Catelyn feared for the lady knight’s life. The fight was long and hard. Both were very capable knights and fought bravely. The loyalty they both felt for Renly was palpable in every strike and every thrust of their swords. _Could it be more than just loyalty? I have seen the way Brienne looked at Renly, she felt more than just duty for him. And now I see the same expression on this young man. What was it with Renly that inspired such love and devotion?_ But then her head turned to Renly’s widow, Margaery Tyrell. Catelyn had not seen her cry over the death of her husband and yet she was overly concerned for the safety of her brother. _Maybe she didn’t feel for Renly what I felt for my Ned._ Thinking of Ned she took a deep breath and turned her attention to the fight again just in time to see Loras fall and Brienne holding her sword to his neck.

 

“If you yield I will not kill you Ser” she said. “I did not kill Renly and I will not kill you.”

“I yield” came the soft reply from the ground.

“The Gods have spoken” Margaery finally said. “Lady Brienne, you have been cleared of all charges, you are free to go.”

“ I want to take Lady Catelyn with me.”

“No!” Loras Tyrell said quickly getting on his feet. “She has not been cleared of her charges. She stays here. You leave now or face the consequences.”

 

Brienne looked at Catelyn and Catelyn nodded back at her. “Go! Go to my son. Tell him the truth, he will hear you out. Take my pin, it will add weight to your words.” Catelyn tried to raise her hands to her chest to remove the pin with her Tully trout sigil but found the shackles only allowed her so much movement. Brienne approached her and took the trout pin from Catelyn’s cloak. “Go to my son” she repeated.

 

 


	4. The Onion Knight (Davos)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mention of human scarifice (nothing we haven't seen on the show or that wasn't mentioned in the books)

_What is this? What has my Lord become? It’s this red priestess, I know. I have tried to make him see sense, but she would not let him listen to me. I’m just the Onion Knight, what do I know of war and strategy? What do I know being a King? Oh, but I do know about honor, and being a Kinslayer is no honor. My Lord, My King. He has become a monster and I have allowed that to happen. I need to stop him and this red witch who has poisoned his mind. But how do I do this? Maester Cressen tried and paid with his life. All these Lords have tried as well and are now burning at the stake at the whim of Melisandre. Sacrifices to R’hllor my arse – this is murder._

 

The men tied to the pyres had long ceased to yell. First they begged for justice. They begged to Stannis, they begged to Melisandre, they begged to Lady Selyse. All in vain. They had done nothing to deserve this punishment. Yes, it was not a sacrifice as Melisandre had claimed, it was punishment – punishment for daring to challenge Melisandre. Then they begged for mercy. When the pyre was lit and the smoke started to surround them they begged for clemency. When the first flames started to lick their toes they just begged: for anything, for everything and nothing. After a while, they begged no more, their cries of pain silenced by death.

 

After the sacrifice, Melisandre and Stannis retired to Stannis’s study while Davos cleaned up the pyres and removed the bodies. Nothing was left of their faces and the only remainder of their existence were these charred remains – burnt bones and ashes. _What a painful way to go_ , thought Davos. Stannis himself sported burn marks on his face. Davos didn’t know _how_ he had received these burn marks or _why_ , but he did know _when_. It was last night, after he and Melisandre had … they had .. Davos couldn’t even bring himself to finish the sentence. He held no love for Renly, never having really met him, but he did not, could not, approve of Kinslaying. Maybe these burn marks were Stannis’s punishment for killing his brother. But, how did he get these marks? Did Melisandre burn him as well? Did the Gods punish him? Did R’hllor?

 

Later that day Stannis and Melisandre headed over to Renly’s camp in the hopes of convincing his men to join him. Some of them did, many of them did not. Many of Renly’s men had defected in the night and gone back home, including his wife Margaery and her brother Loras Tyrell. Most likely they would join the Lannisters. Davos did not know much about strategy and what highborn families did, but he had a feeling the Tyrells were not stupid. With their King murdered, they would look for a strong alliance and the Lannisters were the strongest force. Still, Stannis was able to sway many men to join him with promises of Vengeance and Justice and an opportunity to support the rightful King of Westeros. He brought back with him and army of twelve thousand men and one prisoner: the same lady who had met with Renly and Stannis just hours ago. Apparently Lady Stark had been accused of Renly’s murder.

 

Hours later Stannis asked Davos to join a meeting in his study. As Hand of the King it was his duty to advise him, yet with every action his King was taking this task was becoming increasingly more difficult. When he entered the room he was not surprised to see the Red Priestess Melisandre and Stanis’s wife Selyse, but he was surprised to find Lady Stark.

 

“Your Grace, you asked for me” he greeted Stannis.

“Yes, Ser Davos, take a seat” he said and motioned for him to sit down at the table. “I take it you know Lady Stark”

“My Lady” Davos politely greeted Stannis’s prisoner. “I am sorry for your loss. I never knew your husband but was told he was a very honorable man”.

“Thank you” she replied coldly through tight lips.

“Lady Stark was making us an offer, Ser Davos” Stannis started, “and as my Hand, I want your opinion.” When Davos sat down and nodded at Stannis, he continued. “Her son has declared himself King in the North. That in itself is treason, and reason enough to hang her for supporting it. Yet, she has the audacity to suggest I join him, and then after I win, I give him half my Kingdom. What do you think Ser Davos?”

“Your Grace, I’m not sure I follow” replied Davos certain this was a test he was not sure he could pass.

“What I am offering” Lady Stark said with a resolve Davos did not expect in a woman in these circumstances “is for us to join forces against the usurper currently sitting on the Iron Throne. Once we defeat them together, we ask the North be given Independence. We will help you reclaim the throne that rightfully belongs to you.”

“And then you will take away half my Kingdom” Stannis finished for her. “So, what do you say, Ser Davos? Should I grant this usurper boy half my Kingdom?”

“Your Grace, even though I consider the price too high, we might benefit from an alliance with them. Joining our forces with theirs might provide too formidable a force for the Lannisters to contend with, especially if, as you said, many of Renly’s men have decided to side with the Lannisters.”

“So you think I should accept?” Stannis said pensively.

“I do, Your Grace”

“You do not need her and her son, your Grace” Melisandre said stepping out of the shadows. “You are Azor Ahai, you will get the throne you deserve. R’hllor will see to that.”

“We will continue as planned. We will sail for Blackwater Bay and attack King’s Landing” Stannis said with such finality that left no room for discussion. Lady Stark was shackled again and escorted out of the room by two guards. Then they proceeded to make plans for the attack on King’s Landing.

 

They would attack by sea, making use of all the ships Davos had been able to procure. Having been a smuggler for so many years, he had many friends in the seas he could rely on. He had asked for some favors and pulled some strings and had been able to obtain many boats and men to fill them with. Davos was proud of everything he had done for his Lord, but lately he was beginning to question his pride in said Lord.

 

“With Godspeed we shall prevail, Your Grace” Davos said cheerfully.

“We don’t need your Godspeed, Onion Knight, we need R’hllor” Melisandre retorted calmly. “And R’hllor demands a sacrifice” she continued looking straight at Davos. With an ominous sense of foreboding, Davos felt the walls crashing in on him, he felt his throat constrict inside his neck and found it hard to breathe. “We need the blood of a King.” _I am no King_ , Davos sighed relieved. “We do not have a King,” she continued “but we have the mother of a King”

“Do you mean to burn Lady Stark?” Davos asked incredulously. “With all due respect, Your Grace, this is madness.”

“Need I remind you, Your Grace, that she killed your Shadow Knight?” Melisandre turned to Stannis. “She is responsible for the burn marks on your face.”

“She shall make a fine offering to R’hllor” Stannis pondered aloud.

“Please Your Grace, reconsider, this is madness!” Davos pleaded.

“My decision is final. She will burn tomorrow morning. Her ashes will bless our boats and then we shall depart for King’s Landing. My Lady, my Lord, you are dismissed.”

 

Davos really didn’t know Lady Stark, but he could not allow for more innocent people to die. He truly feared for the sanity of his Lord and was afraid he was going down a downward spiral he wouldn’t be able to pull him out of. But what could he do? He couldn’t just approach Melisandre and kill her. Crassen had tried and failed. Other Lords had plotted against her and paid dearly for it. He was unable to sleep and found himself turning and tossing in bed that night.

 

Morning found him exhausted and sweating profusely. He rose and washed his face. Just splashing his face was not enough, he ducked his face in the bucket and let the water soak him through. He quickly broke his fast and headed down the beach where he found Stannis and Melisandre already leading a host of men to an altar by the rocks. Next to the altar was a stake surrounded by hay. He could still smell the acrid stench of burnt flesh from two days past. Two guards brought forward a barefoot Lady Stark and bound her to the stake. She kept pleading and crying, but Stannis turned a deaf ear to the desperate woman.

 

Melisandre started chanting about her God and her sacrifices, about blood and fire, about right and wrong, about Kings and laws, and who knows about what else. Davos had stopped listening. He tried to drown both Melisandre’s rambling and the poor woman’s cries. Lady Stark was going to die and he knew it. It would just be another name to add to this madness they had embarked on. No! He could not allow that. He could not let his Lord succumb to this witch. He had to save him.

 

As Melisandre lit the pyre he made one last ditch effort to reach his Lord.

“Your Grace, please reconsider. If you burn this woman, you will only awaken her son’s rage. Right now we can use him to our advantage” his words barely audible over the desperate cries of the woman tied to the stake.

“I don’t need him” was Stannis’s stern reply.

“No, but you need your Gods. What we are doing is murder Your Grace, please! The Gods will punish us for it!”

 

Lady Stark had started to cough now, as the smoke enveloped her. The flames were starting to grow bigger and brighter and the woman shrieked in agony and fear. Davos mustered a courage he didn’t know he had and jumped to the pyre. With his cloak he started to cover the flames in an attempt to put out the fire. Smoke surrounded him now and made it hard for him to breathe and see. The flames were licking at his fingers as he waved his cloak and tried to stamp on the burning logs and kick them out onto the sand. His pants caught fire and he could feel the heat radiating through his leg. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity he was able to extinguish the flames. He untied an unconscious Lady Stark and hoisted her on his shoulder. Defiantly he looked at Stannis and stepped down from the pyre.

 

“I am doing this for you, Your Grace” he said taking a deep breath once he was safely out of the smoke covered altar. “I do not expect you to thank me or appreciate what I am doing. I have always been your loyal servant. Still am. This is why I am doing this. I cannot allow you to fall, Your Grace.”

“Stannis, he’s getting away!” Selyse shouted. “With your prisoner! Somebody grab him!”

“No! Let him go” shouted Stannis. “Ser Davos, you have always been true to me. I trust you have not changed your cloak. There must be a reason why you are doing this and I am inclined to believe that, even if I don’t agree with it or if I don’t see it, you’re doing this for my benefit. Go in peace.”

 

Davos spent one last look on his former Lord and quickly made his way to the stables. The woman in his arms started to rouse and was caught by a violent fit of cough.

“Breathe, calm down. You’re safe. Breathe”

 

She looked at him with dazed unfocused eyes and her cough slowly started to subside. Davos helped her on a horse and then mounted behind her. “Hold on to me” he told her. With Lady Stark sitting on his lap nestled on his chest, one hand behind her back and the other holding the reins he quickly rode away. Where could he go? For now he didn’t know his destination, he just knew he had to get out of Stannis’s camp before he changed his mind.

 

They rode for the best part of the day. The woman in his arms kept drifting in and out of consciousness and he was afraid he might not have saved her in time. It was mid afternoon when she finally awoke.

“Why did you save me?” she asked hoarsely.

“You did not deserve that. My Lord Stannis, you see, he’s a good man”

“I wouldn’t know, I couldn’t really tell through the smoke” she replied icily.

“He is a good man, but he’s being poisoned by that witch. I could not allow him to commit another crime. If I cannot save him, I have to save his soul.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“I don’t know” and he honestly didn’t. “I don’t know where we can go. You son’s maybe?”

“Riverrun. He was camped near Riverrun”

“Then, Riverrun it is. It might take us a few days to get there” he said and she nodded. “How are you feeling, my lady?”

“Tired” she answered after a long pause. “I had never experienced such fear and pain. I couldn’t breathe and I burned all over. I felt my whole body was on fire and the flames had barely reached me. I shudder to think what it would feel like to actually be engulfed in flames.”

 

Evening found them in the middle of a forest and they stopped for the night. When Davos suggested building a fire her eyes went wide. In the end they settled for huddling next to each other. The night was cold and they were unprepared; he had no cloak, she was still barefoot and her clothes were in tatters.

 

“Do you think you son will take me in?” he suddenly asked her.

“You saved my life, Ser Davos. He had better take you in” she smiled back.

 

He was tired. He hadn’t slept the night before and the events of the day had taken a toll on him. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but the woman next to him kept tossing and turning and would not stay still. She had said she was fine, but Davos could see some burn marks on her arms and her bare feet. Her gown was blackened with soot and torn in many places. He could see red marks on her exposed skin and figured that, even if the flames had not completely reached her, the heat had and had probably burned her skin. Her long red hair was burnt at the ends and smelled of smoke. He started to run his fingers through her hair in an attempt to untangle the knots. She was clearly an attractive woman, certainly prettier and younger than his wife. _But she’s not Marya, oh, my Marya, when will I see you again?_

 

His eyes had closed and he unconsciously kept running his fingers through the woman’s hair, the steady movement of his hand having a lulling effect on his mind. But he was soon awakened as the woman started to whimper and moan in her sleep. _A nightmare, most likely. Can’t blame her, after what happened earlier today._ Suddenly she shrieked and her eyes shot open.

 

“Ned!” she cried.

“Shh Lady Stark, you’re safe” he told her gently.

“Wh- where? What?” she stuttered trying to open her eyes.

“We are on our way to Riverrun as you suggested. Do you remember me? Do you remember what happened?”

She took a deep breath and disentangled herself from his arms. “Yes, Ser Davos. I remember.”

“Is that what you were dreaming of?” he asked softly.

“Yes and no. Do you ever have nightmares, Ser Davos?”

“Not really my Lady. I try to forget things I see and hear when I go to sleep. Otherwise I would never be able to close my eyes” he smiled.

“I wish I had that power” she said quietly. “Things I have experienced in these past few months are enough to give me nightmares for the rest of my days. So much loss, so much pain. And all for what? My son wants vengeance. He believes placing a crown on his head will give him what he has lost. I just want my husband back, I want to be back home with my children. Do you have any children, Ser Davos?”

“Yes, two of them are home with my wife, and the other is coming back from Bravos in a few weeks. He was to meet me at Stannis’s camp. I hope he finds me or makes his way home to his mother.”

“I left my two little ones in Winterfell months ago, one of my daughters is a prisoner in King’s Landing, the other one has disappeared and no-one has heard from her, and Robb …” she trailed “our parting words were not exactly friendly.”

“You’ll be home soon, my Lady. Go back to sleep. We have a long set of days ahead of us.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Blackwater Bay
> 
> Thanks for reading.
> 
> Reviews are appreciated.


	5. The World is on Fire (The Hound)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll start at the battle of Blackwater Bay.  
> The Hound's fear of fire is getting the best of him. There are some flashbacks into The Hounds (traumatic) past

Fire, fire everywhere. He was a soldier, not a fucking peasant. Fire was not the soldier’s way, it was the coward’s way. You don’t fight fire with a sword, and a sword was all he had. _A sword is all I am_.

 

He could see the boats coming into the bay and the bay was alight in green. Wildfire. It had been the Imp’s idea. _What does an Imp know of fighting?_ Yes, he had given a very rousing speech and had instilled courage in a bunch of sissy men who thought they could  be soldiers. But fire? Real men don’t fight with fire, they fight with swords and axes.

 

_“Does it burn, little brother?” “Feel the heat on your face?” “Give me back my toy, little brother” “You can have my toys after I’m done with them”. FIRE. BURING, FIRE. BURNING. The side of his face was hot red, the skin peeling off. “Mother, take him off me!” he had pleaded, but to no avail. His brother, much bigger, much stronger, much better at everything than he would ever be, was pinning him down on the stove – all for a fucking toy._

_… And now, fire again. Fire is everywhere. The water is in flames, the land is on fire, and soon I will be too. I have to get out. I have to get out. I have to get out._

_… I will save her. Little Bird deserves to be saved. I couldn’t save the other bird, but this one I can. And I will._

 

A soldier’s worth is not measured by how many men he can kill, if it were like that his name would be up there with the legendary knights of old. A soldier’s worth is measured by his vows. Until now he had kept his vow to protect the little shit of a King, but his most present vow now was for himself. His King was ordering him out of the walls and into the battle. Into the Fire. _Fuck the Kingsguard. Fuck the City. Fuck the King._

 

Gulping down a wineskin he made his way to Sansa’s room. She wasn’t there, but he could wait for her. Alone in the darkness he tried to clear his mind, but an old Little Bird kept coming back, uninvited, to his mind. Kersei was her name. Kersei. He would never forget her name. It rhymed with mercy, a mercy she had kept asking for and he had never given her. “ _Please ser, have mercy. Please Ser, stop!” “I am no ser”_

 

He kept replaying his memories over and over again in his head until he heard her come into the room. Another Little Bird. But he would save her this time. He hid in the shadows as Sansa walked in and locked the door to her room.

 

“Come with me” he said startling the girl. “Didn’t mean to scare you” he added as she gasped in fear.

“What are you doing here? Where’s the King? Shouldn’t you be out protecting him?”

“Fuck the King. I’m leaving.”

“Where are you going?”

“Somewhere safe. Somewhere that is not burning. I mean to take you with me.”

“Do you mean to kidnap me?” she asked panic showing in her voice.

“No, I mean to keep you safe. Take you home, to Winterfell, to your family”

“Why?”

“Because I can. I’ll keep you safe. Do you want to go home?” He saw her hesitate for a moment and she finally nodded. “Then come. Hurry.”

 

He offered her his hand but she didn’t take it.

“I need to pack” she said.

“There’s no time for that, we need to go. Now!” he urged.

She walked to the door and then made a last lunge for the bed. Sandor watched in confusion as she picked up a doll and held it to her heart.

“Do you still play with dolls? We have no time to play!”

“My father gave me this doll. This is all I have left of him”

 

Quickly and quietly they made their way through the hallways, as they passed soldiers and did their best to ignore them. “I’m escorting the King’s betrothed” he would claim occasionally to anybody questioning them as they fled. Once safely out of the castle they found themselves in the city. Sansa’s eyes went wide with fear and confusion as she saw the fire, the bodies, the fighting. They could hear yells and shouts. They could feel the arrows flying past them. He urged her to ignore all that and just focus on leaving. They would be safe soon. He knew he couldn’t use the gates; they would be guarded and most likely word of his betrayal had already spread. His instinct told him to run away from the fiery water, yet his judgment told him to head for the beach. There was no fighting on the sand and the fires had not reached the shoreline. He tried his best to avoid the sight of fire in the distance. He could see the boats in flames swaying in the darkness of the sea. He could hear the shrieks of agony of men burning to death. _Fire is no honorable death for a soldier._

 

Once at the beach they circled outside the city walls and headed straight for the woods. The forest would keep them hidden. He grabbed her hand to quicken the pace and rushed her through the woods. The pale moonlight did not really let him see the way, but he knew the way. The way was out of there, that was all that mattered for now. They ran, they walked, they crawled until they could move no more. The sun was coming up and he could see that the girl was getting tired. She was just a little highborn girl, she was not made for war, she was not made for fear. _She is just a Little Bird._

 

With the sunrise came clarity and calmness. He looked back but could not see the city through the dense forest. _Good_ , he thought, _if we can’t see them, they can’t see us._ He urged her to continue a bit further until he saw she was about to collapse. He then grabbed her forcefully in his arms but only succeeded in scaring her further.

 

“I’m not going to hurt you. I said I would keep you safe and intend to keep my vow”

“Like you kept you vow to your King?” she challenged.

“I’m not going to hurt you” he replied gruffly. “Do you want to stay? You can go back to the city. Your head will be a nice addition to the walls, next to your father’s”

“No” she replied timidly. “I’ll stay with you. Will you really take me home?”

“Yes.”

“What about my sister?”

“Do you know where she is?”

“No” she shook her head sadly.

“Then I’m afraid she’s on her own.”

“Can we look for her? Please, she’s too young and all alone.”

“She’s most likely dead, Little Bird. Raped and left on a ditch somewhere in the city.”

“Please don’t say such things” she cried.

“Tell you what. I’ll take you home, but if we hear about her we’ll go save her” he finally said.

“Thank you ser”

“I am no …” and he stopped himself. “You’re welcome” he replied instead.

 

When he reckoned they were at a safe distance from the city he stopped. Checking with the sun he tried to steer them in a northerly direction. North. To Winterfell. Not much later they arrived to the outskirts of a town.

 

“Hide here” he said pointing at a grass covered rock. “Hide behind the rock and don’t make a sound. I’ll be right back”

 

Quietly and obediently she hid as he had instructed and he made his way into the town. They needed horses, food, water, warm clothes, and ale. _Don’t forget the ale._ He had no money to pay with but he had a sword. _The soldiers’ currency._ He came across a man in a cart and drew out his sword.

 

“What have you got in there old man?” he threatened

“No-nothing, my Lord” the old man stuttered.

“I’ll be the judge of that” he said approaching the man. He lifted the blanket covering the cart and found a boy and a girl hiding along with a basket of fruit and other supplies.

“Please don’t hurt them. They are my grandchildren, I’m all they have left. Please ser!” the old man begged.

“I am no Ser” came his cold reply. “Leave, go back home. I’m keeping the cart.”

“Please, no! What are we to do?”

“You could walk. If you tarry longer my sword will tell you what to do” he said raising his sword for emphasis. The old man quietly told the children to get off the cart and shot him a derisive look. The Hound placed the sword on the man’s throat. “Leave now before I change my mind.” But before they turned back, he called the girl. “Girl, give me your cloak.”

“Please don’t. She’s only thirteen!” the man begged misunderstanding his intentions. “Don’t hurt her!”

“I do not intend to” Some other time he might have done it. He had done it, and he had lived to regret it. _“Please Ser, stop!”_ his mind kept repeating _._ He shook the memories away and stared back at the girl.“I just need your cloak”

“But I’ll freeze” the girl said.

“Just give him the cloak, honey” the old man told her. “You will leave us alone, will you not? You will leave us be?” he asked The Hound.

“I will, but you will not tell anyone about me” he said and quickly punched him in the face with such force and brutality the man was unconscious before he hit the ground. “If you tell anyone about me I’ll be back, and next time it won’t be my fist, it’ll be my sword” he warned the children.

 

This cart would help them move faster. Plus they now had food and water and he had a cloak for Sansa. All he needed was the ale. And he knew where to find it. He rode the cart closer to the town until he spotted the guards. Guards usually never had drinks on them, but they always kept some hidden somewhere close. He ambushed a pair of guards, killing the first one immediately and pinning the other one to the ground with his sword.

 

“Please don’t kill me!” he pleaded. “I won’t rat you out to the Lord!”

“Good. Now that we understand each other, I just have two question. Number one: Where are we?”

“A small town called Green Moss. Rosby is that way and Stokeworth that way”

“Good, next question: Where’s your ale?”

“Excuse me?” the confused guard asked.

“I said. Where. Do. You. Keep. Your. Drink?” he repeated placing his sword on the man’s chest and slowly applying pressure.

“It-It’s by the tent. Over there. Wine, ale, water. Ta-take whatever you want. But please, don’t kill me. I swear, I won’t tell”

“Of course you won’t” he said thrusting his blade into the young man’s chest. “Thank you for the wine” he spat as he walked towards the tent. “Now, we have everything” he said to himself as he loaded the wineskins onto the cart.

 

 


	6. Adventures on the Road (Sansa)

Having a cart made their escape a lot easier. They could travel faster and it was a lot more comfortable. Ser Clegane had said he had bought the cart, the food and the clothes from an old shopkeeper in the town. She had not wanted to contradict him, but she knew for a fact he travelled with no money. When she had questioned him about it he had been very rude. “Do you want to walk, starve and freeze to death or do you want to use the supplies I have procured?” he had spat at her.

 

She was of two minds about this man. On the one hand he had saved her. He had been kind when Joffrey had his guards beat her, he had saved her during the riots, and he had taken her out of King’s Landing. He had promised he would take her home and was actually taking care of her on the road. But on the other hand, he was … He was The Hound. He was a soldier, a killer. _“I am a killer, you father was a killer, and your sons will be killers”_ he had told her. And she was certain he had not paid for this cart with gold.

 

_I just want to go home with father and mother, with my sister and my brothers, with Lady and Nymeria, with Grey Wind, Summer and Shaggydog. I want to see Bran climb walls, I want to sing songs to Rickon, I want to fight with Arya, I want to hear Robb, Jon and Theon tell stories of knights and battles, I want mother to braid my hair and I want to show father how much I have learned. If this man, this “killer” can give me half of what I want, I’ll take it - no questions asked._

 

“… so Arya came running to tell father what she had seen. And do you know what he said?” Sansa was telling his travelling companion stories of her childhood in Winterfell.

“No, I don’t know and I don’t care” came his gruff reply.

“Well, I’ll tell you anyway. When father saw Arya’s hands and then he looked at the horse…”

“Shh, be quiet” he shushed.

“No, I don’t want to be quiet. I’ll tell you the story, whether you want to hear it or not.”

“Be quiet little girl or I’ll make you quiet” he threatened again.

“You’re so rude” she tried to say but didn’t get a chance as The Hound covered her mouth with his hand. “Get your filthy hand of me” she said removing his hand.

“Shh, there’s someone there. Behind those trees.”

 

As if to emphasize his point, an arrow flew past them and imbedded itself on the side of the cart. Next, four men assaulted the cart and pointed their swords at them.

 

“Who are you and where are you going?” asked one of them.

“What’s it to you?” replied the Hound.

“You dare challenge the man holding a sword to your daughter?”

“She’s not my daughter”

“Then, you don’t mind if we take her, do you? These woods are lonely.”

“I do mind” he replied and before the men could react, Sandor Clegane had unsheathed his sword, knocked one man to the floor and pinned another to the cart with a sword to his throat. “Now I will ask the questions. Who are you and what are you doing here?”

 

“There will be no need for that” a strong voice said behind the trees. As the man walked up to them, Sansa thought she recognized the face, but she could not place it. _I saw him in King’s Landing with the King. No, he was from Winterfell. Not that either. I know this man, who is he?_ , she wondered. “Sandor Clegane, isn’t it? What’s a dog doing so far from its kennel?”the man continued as more men poured out of the woods behind him  and surrounded their cart.

“Who are you?” asked The Hound.

“First remove your sword from my man’s neck, then tell me what you are doing here, and only then will I tell you about me” the man replied calmly

 

Seeing no way out, Sandor Clegane put his sword away. “When King’s Landing was attacked I deserted my King and took his betrothed hostage. Now, who are you?”

“My name is Yoren”

“Yoren!” yelled Sansa. “I remember now, you were a friend of my father’s, Ned Stark”

“Yes, I knew Lord Stark. Tell me girl, has this man hurt you?”

“No, he saved me! He’s taking me to my mother”

“Little Bird, we don’t talk to strangers” the Hound muttered.

“He’s no stranger, he knew my father. Maybe he can help us. Can you help us, Ser?”

“You’ve learned nothing, haven’t you?” the Hound continued looking at Sansa.

“Did you really desert your King?” Yoren asked the Hound.

“He was no King of mine by the time I deserted him. Are you headed North?”

“Yes, north. As north as you can get.”

“The Wall? You’re the Black Brother taking recruits to the Wall. Nice lot you got there” said Clegane pointing at the men being led by Yoren, all either too young or to old to be of any use, some of them crippled, most of them criminals taken from dark dungeons all over the land.

“That’s where traitors belong. Want to join them?”

 

But then Sansa stopped listening to their exchange. She focused her eyes on a young boy. He looked feminine. Those eyes. He looked just like .. but, it couldn’t be. _Couldn’t it? Why not? She disappeared and no-one has heard from her. Maybe she disguised herself as a boy._

 

When Yoren saw what Sansa was looking at, he called her attention. “Girl, come walk with me. I need to ask you about your father.”

“My father is dead, my Lord”

“I know, and I’m sorry about that” he motioned for her to walk with him. “Arry, be a good lad and fetch us some water. I’m sure the girl must be thirsty.”

 

“I knew your father, my Lady” he said as he took her aside. “He was an honorable man. I couldn’t do anything for him in King’s Landing, so I did what I could to help his family. Yes, the boy you just saw is your sister, Arya. But you need to keep this quiet. Nobody here knows who she is. Here she is Arry the orphan, a boy from Flea Bottom.”

 

When Arry brought the water, Sansa looked at the boy – the girl. Yes, no doubt about it!

“Arya!” she cried and made to hug her sister.

“Oh, Sansa, I can’t believe you’re here!” she replied. “What are you doing with that monster? Did he hurt you?”

“No, he saved me. He’s a good man.”

“No! He’s a monster!”

“In any case” interrupted Yoren “he’s a good fighter, and we might have need of him in our journey. He’s coming with us.”

“Where are you taking us?” Sansa asked him

“Winterfell” Arya replied with a toothy grin.

 

Trying not to get too close to keep up appearances, Sansa and Arya stood apart from each other as they marched, and they listened in to Yoren and The Hound’s conversation. Clegane was filling him in with details of what had transpired in King’s Landing and the Battle of Blackwater Bay. It was Yoren who told him the Lannisters had prevailed with the aid of the Tyrells. Apparently after the death of Renly, most of the Tyrell men had switched over to the Lannisters, while only a handful of men had turned to Stannis’s side. Robb Stark, or as his men called him, King Robb, was fighting in the Riverlands and doing a good job taking back lands from the Lannisters.

“We need to be careful here” said Yoren. “If we are caught by Lannister forces we could be in big trouble. I have two of the Stark girls and a Kingsguard turncloak.”

“If the brother is in Riverrun, why don’t you drop the girls off there and be done with them?” Clegane suggested. “They are just a burden”

“We could. I could stop by and ask for more recruits and leave the girls” Yoren pondered aloud. “Would you like to join the Brothers? As a traitor that would be your fate. I am giving you freedom to choose. We could use a man with your skills at the Wall.”

But The Hound never answered.

 

When they stopped for the night Sansa made sure to stay close to Arya.

“Pst! Sansa” Arya called her.

“Can we talk now?” Sansa whispered back at her sister.

“Yes, and you don’t need to whisper. When we stop for the night, it’s every man for himself. We set watch and the rest can sleep or do as they please. Tonight it’s Red Tooth and Hendy’s turn. Some of the men will be playing cards, others will be fighting and others will be sleeping.”

“I see you still carry your sword”

“Yeah, I still have Needle.”

“Have you used it?”

“Yes” Arya replied after some hesitation.

“Have you killed anyone?”

“Not intentionally” was her cryptic reply.

“Oh” Sansa replied and stayed silent for a while. “How long have you been travelling like this?”

“I don’t know. I have lost track. We left King’s Landing not long after father’s execution and we have been travelling since. We stop in every town to ask for more recruits for the Watch. Yoren said he would take me to Winterfell on his way to the Wall. He saved me back in the city and took me with him.”

“But now they said Robb is in Riverrun and they would take us there. Riverrun is closer and we will be with Robb and mother’s family. Maybe mother is there as well.”

“Maybe. What are you doing with him?” Arya asked pointing her chin towards The Hound, who was conversing with Yoren.

“Ser Clegane?”

“Ser Monster!”

“Arya! That’s rude!”

“That cunt is a monster”

“Arya, your language! Where did you learn those words?” Sansa asked horrified.

“Oh, sorry, I forgot I was talking to a princess. The King’s betrothed” Arya mocked her.

“Why do you always have to be so nasty?”

“Why do you always have to be so stupid?”

“I’m not stupid!”

“Yes you are. Joffrey was hideous and you’re the only one who did not see it. Even this Ser Monster saw it and betrayed him.”

“Ser Clegane is a good man, he saved me. Why do you hate him so?”

“He killed Mycah!”

“Who?”

“Mycah, the boy I was playing with when Nymeria attacked your prince Shitffrey”

“Yes, he has killed people. I cannot defend him on that. And to be fair, he scares me a bit, what with his burned face and his gruff demeanor, but he saved me and said he would take me home.”

“I want to go home too. I miss mother and my brothers. I missed you.”

“So did I, Arya. I‘m glad we found you.”

“Me too” Arya replied and took her sister’s hand. They fell asleep hand in hand.

 

 

They continued their march through farmlands and forests and rivers and streams, every now and then stopping in towns and holdfasts looking for fresh recruits for the Night Watch.

 

It was night when the men came and they were unprepared. The sound of the hooves on the wet ground woke Sansa up, but it was the warning horn that made her get up. By the time she was on her feet, Arya, Needle in hand, was already bolting towards the bushes. She followed her sister and crouched beside her. Yoren came up behind them and told them to stay still. Then they saw Yoren converse with the men. _Gold Cloaks_ , Sansa recognized them.

 

“What could they want?” Sansa whispered.

“Me. You. Both of us. Ser Monster the turncloak. Who knows? But it’s not good” Arya replied.

They couldn’t hear the conversation, just snippets. “Bastard” “wanted by the Queen” “Surrender now”. It didn’t take long for Yoren and the leader of the Gold cloaks to pull out their swords. “It’s the King’s command” one of them said.

“Fuck the King” said a gruff voice Sansa knew very well. And in a matter of seconds all hell broke loose.

 

Sansa cowered behind her sister as the men fought for their lives. Yoren’s men outnumbered the Gold cloaks, but the City men were much better warriors and much more prepared. Yet, in the end it was the numbers than mattered. After the fight, the recruits took their time to honor and bury their fallen comrades. All valuable possessions, however small they were, were up for the taking, but their bodies were to remain untouched and buried underground. The same applied for the Lannister soldiers. “We can’t leave track of this fight, or more will be coming after us” explained Yoren.

 

As they sat by the fire, Clegane and Yoren toasted to their victory. As they passed the wineskin round Sansa declined gracefully but Arya took a big gulp.

“Arya, since when do you drink?” Sansa asked her.

“Since when are you my mother?” she retorted sticking her tongue out.

“How much longer do you think it will take us to get to Riverrun?” Sansa asked Yoren.

“Tired of our company already?” he laughed. “We’ll be there in two days.”

 

_Two days. Two days until she could see her family. Two days until she could have a bath and wash her hair. Two days until this nightmarish ordeal was over._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Sansa and Arya have found each other and are on their way to see their family ...   
> Reviews are appreciated ...  
> Thanks!


	7. An Act of Rage (Catelyn)

The journey back to Riverrun had been rough; no supplies, no food, no warm clothes and just one horse for the both of them. Davos proved to be good company, but she couldn’t wait to be home. By the time they saw the outline of the castle in the horizon Catelyn was so exhausted that for a minute she thought she was hallucinating.

 

She was greeted warmly by the guards at the gates and taken to her son immediately.

 

“Mother, Gods, look at you. Are you alright?” Robb said taking in her haggard appearance.

“I am now” she replied. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but the negotiations with Renly went a bit sour”

“Yes, your friend, the woman knight told us.”

“Is Brienne here?”

“Yes, she arrived three days past and told us what happened at Bitterbridge. Mother, what happened to you?” he asked and pointed at her torn clothes and bare feet.

“I was accused of murder” she replied flatly. “This is Davos, by the way. Davos Seaworth, Robb Stark, my son” she said introducing Davos to her son. “I’ll tell you everything, but over a nice supper and only after I have taken a bath” a faint smile reaching her lips.

“Yes, you definitely need a bath” he smiled back.

 

She made sure Davos was given a room and some food then asked to be taken to her old chambers. She had a tub filled with warm water and soaked in it for hours. _I have to get this grime and soot off me. My hair is a mess. Ned loves my hair_ , she thought with a pang in her heart. She made herself presentable again and went to find her son. She found him in the Hall having a meeting with her brother Edmure, her uncle the Blackfish, Theon, and some other Lords: Umber, Bolton, Karstark, all the Lords that had proclaimed him King in the North. She was pleased to see Brienne and Davos as well. But her father was nowhere to be seen. As soon as they saw her, they all stood up. Her brother gave her a tight hug and the rest of the Lords nodded and bowed politely. She embraced Brienne and was glad to see Ser Davos looking rested and fresh.

 

“Where’s my father?” she asked.

“Father is not well, Cat” replied Edmure. “We don’t think he has much longer”

“Sit mother” Robb said. “Food is coming.”

“Good I’m starving. I mean no offence, Ser Davos, but roasted lizard and green leaves can only fill me up for so long”

“None taken, my Lady. I shall partake in the supper as well. I am told the salmon is especially tasty in this part of the land”

 

As the food was brought in, Catelyn served herself a big plate and as soon as she had finished she went for seconds. She was wolfing down the food with the same speed she was gulping down the wine.

“Easy mother, lay off with the drink” Robb told her.

“I thought I was your mother, not the other way around” she admonished her son playfully. “When you have been accused of murder, imprisoned, burned at the stake and then starved and travelled for as long as I have, you are allowed to drink, my son”

 

She proceeded to tell her son and his men about her adventures in the South. Some things they already knew through Brienne, and Catelyn confirmed her version of the events.

“So Stannis did kill Renly, then. We weren’t sure what to make of Lady Brienne’s allegations” said the Blackfish.

 

She went on to tell them about her meeting with Stannis: how he had come to Renly’s camp the following day and taken many men to his army (the ones who had not switched over to the Lannisters), how he had kept her prisoner even though he was the one who had killed Renly, how she had tried to convince him to join forces but he had adamantly refused. When she told them of the sacrifice at the beach, the men couldn’t help but gasp in horror.

“Gods, Cat, he almost burned you alive. That’s horrible. Thank you Ser Davos” said Edmure grabbing her hand.

“Ser Davos, you will have my gratitude for the rest of your days. Ask what you will and it shall be given to you” Robb added.

“I wish to be given leave to go to my wife” he simply said.

 

After the meeting, Catelyn and Brienne stayed talking together.

“So, I see you have become part of my son’s army” Catelyn told her.

“No, my Lady. I only came here on your behalf.”

“Oh. Are you leaving us?”

“No, my lady. I have not sworn fealty to your son yet, that’s all.”

“Will you?”

“Actually, my lady, it was you who saved me at Bitterbridge. I would like to swear fealty to you.”

“To me?” Catelyn asked surprised.

“You are a very courageous woman”

“These men don’t seem to think that” she replied, her mind flashing back to a few weeks past when they accused her of being the gentle sex.

“But I do. You have courage, not battle courage, a woman’s courage.”

“And since you are a woman knight …” Catelyn prompted.

“… I would like to come into your service. I will shield your back and protect it with my own if I have to. I swear it by the old Gods and the New” Brienne vowed unsheathing her sword and placing it at Catelyn’s feet.

“Lady Brienne, you will always be under my protection, I swear it by the Old Gods and the New” replied Catelyn

 

 

With every new day that passed, Catelyn ached to go back home to Bran and Rickon.

“I need to go back, Robb. They have been alone for far too long now.”

“They are well taken care of Mother. They have Maester Luwin, Old Nan, Cassel, Poole”

“Yes, and Hodor, Vanes and Tollip, I know. But they don’t have their mother. They probably already know that their father is gone, they need my support now. They need me” she cried. “And I need them” she added quietly and served herself a glass of wine.

“I know you do. But I also need you. I want to go home, too, Mother. But we can’t. We need to win this if we want to avenge father.”

“I don’t need vengeance, Robb! I need my family. The Lannisters have already taken my husband. I don’t want them to take my children as well. I want Arya and Sansa, and I want for you to come home.”

“We’ll get them back, mother, I promise”

“There is a way to get them back, but you won’t even consider it”

“I can’t mother. Not the Kingslayer. My bannermen will string me up by my feet if I trade such a valuable hostage for two girls”

“Two girls who happen to be my daughters! Your sisters!”

“I know! I need to keep him under constant guard. Karstark begs me daily to behead him for killing his sons. You want me to free him. Don’t make this harder than it already is. I .. I don’t know what to do, Mother”

“I’m sorry” she said putting her arms around him and kissing his forehead. “I’m also at a loss. You said you needed me, what do you need me for?”

“I need your advice, your counsel.”

“On what?” she asked re filling her glass.

“Theon” he replied eyeing the glass with suspicion.

“What about him?”

“He suggested rallying his father’s men and boats to our side to attack King’s Landing”

“No! You cannot do that. Do not trust them.”

“I trust Theon”

“I do not trust Balon Greyjoy. Your father had to fight him. Theon is a hostage for a reason.”

“But he’s done nothing wrong”

“So far. If you send him home, his father will feel no need to uphold his vows. We’ll have no leverage against him. Do not send him to Pyke. Do not trust the Greyjoys. You trust Theon, good. Keep him close then. Make him your guard but do not send him to his father”

“Alright. Speaking of guards, I seem to notice Lady Brienne following you around all the time.”

“Yes, she’s sworn service to me” she answered and when Robb raised his eyebrows she continued “She’s a good knight and I feel safe around her. You should have seen her fight, she’s impressive.”

“Good. She’ll keep you safe then, next time somebody wants to burn you alive …”

“Hopefully I won’t have to repeat that!”

 

After her son left, she poured herself another glass of wine. The wine helped soothe her pain. It lulled her senses. Oh, how she wanted to go home! Go back to Winterfell, to her room and to her bed, the bed she used to share with Ned. How will she fill his empty space now? Will she ever go home? Will she ever see her daughters again? Bran and Rickon? Poor Bran, how lonely he must have felt waking up after his long sleep to find his family gone.

 

The question of how Bran had fallen still remained unanswered, though. The question of how Ned had been arrested in King’s Landing also weighed heavily on her mind, as well as how come Arya had been able to slip out of the city undetected. She wondered about Sansa’s fate in the hands of the Queen. There was one man who could give her the answers she needed. She gulped down the last drops on her glass and made her way to the dungeons.

 

 

“I need to speak to him alone” she told the guards in a tone that left no room for discussion and strode purposefully to the Kingslayer’s cell. The stench was overwhelming: blood, waste and sweat. And there he was, the proud lion, looking dirty and disheveled but haughty as ever.

“You look lovely tonight Lady Stark, widowhood becomes you” Jamie Lannister mocked her from the floor. “Your bed must be lonely. I’m not at my best, but I could be of service. Why don’t you slip out of that gown and –” She didn’t give him time to finish as she kicked him in the face.

“My son Bran, how did he come to fall from that tower?”

“I pushed him” he answered nonchalantly.

“Why?” she gasped.

“I hoped the fall would kill him”

“But why?”

“Well …” he shrugged and said nothing more.

“Why did you attack my husband in King’s Landing?”

“I’m a dutiful soldier. I follow orders. I arrest and attack the men who betray my King. Other people prefer to kidnap their enemies. Isn’t that so, lady Stark?”

“I had been told your brother had attempted to murder my son. I did not kidnap him. I arrested him to be tried in court. What are the Queen’s plans with Sansa? How is she treating her?”

“Don’t know, been away too long. Better than your son is treating me, I bet” he replied rattling his chains.

“And Arya. Do you know where she could be?” she sounded desperate now, and she knew it.

“So many questions … what do I get in return?”

“Your life. Do you know how many of my son’s bannermen want your head?”

“Many, I’m sure. Do you want my head? After all, according to you I tried to murder your son, I attacked your husband, I left your daughter at the mercy of the evil Queen and her monster of a son, and had the other girl disappear from the face of the Earth. Have I done anything to the little one? Oh, no. I’m innocent of that one. It was you who left him all alone” he smirked.

She kicked him again.

“What about the other boy?” he continued taunting her. “Your husband’s boy? Snow? Have I done anything to him too? I’m sure you’re overly concerned about his safety. Oh, no. You never loved him. How could you? How did it feel to see your husband return home with a bastard? Confession and confirmation that he had slept with another woman. Are you really that lousy in bed? You see, I wouldn’t know. I have never been unfaithful to Cersei. So you see, in my own way, I have more honor than your precious Ned”

She kicked him again. “Is Joffrey yours? And Myrcella and Tommen?”

“You have quite a leg, Lady Stark. And to answer your question: Yes, they are mine”

“So my husband died for the truth” she said stifling a sob.

“Not everybody wants to hear the truth. Did you enjoy my truths about your husband and the woman he bedded? The truth about how I pushed your precious boy off a window and crushed his legs? The truth ..” and he couldn’t finish the sentence as she kicked him again.

“Shut up! Shut up!”

“Oh, so you don’t like the truth? Are you going to kill me for the truth?”

 

And she kicked him again and again. She fell to the floor and, unable to kick, she clenched her fists into a ball and hit him again and again. She didn’t hear the man on the floor moaning in pain and his chains rattling. She didn’t hear the sound of her fists hitting soft flesh. She didn’t hear the sound of broken bones. She didn’t feel the blood that was now soaking her bruise-covered hands. All she had in her head was silence and darkness. And rage. Rage. Rage.

 

“My Lady” A voice suddenly called from the void. It sounded so far away. She felt like she was drowning and the voice called her from the surface. “Lady Catelyn” said the voice again getting closer. She felt herself being lifted and carried. “Lady Catelyn” she heard again. She tried to place the voice but it was too far away. _Am I drowning?_ She could feel the waves swaying her and the water cooing her. “Lady Catelyn” the sea called out to her but she could not muster a reply.

 

 

When she came to she was on a bed. She felt dizzy and had bandages on her hands. She had been there before, all those ages ago back in Winterfell protecting Bran from the assassin. Was Bran here with her? Had it all been just a dream? Maybe Ned was still alive, maybe Sansa and Arya were still with him. Maybe … She opened her eyes. No. This was not Winterfell. She recognized her old room instantly. It had not been a dream. It was a nightmare and she was still living it.

 

“Lady Catelyn, how are you feeling?” said a voice she had no trouble placing: Maester Vyman, the old Maester at Riverrun whom she had known since she was a child. She looked around the room and saw both Maester Vyman and Brienne looking at her with concern. “Child, can you her me?” the Maester asked her again. _Child_ , she laughed to herself. _I am not a child, haven’t been a child in ages. I am a mother and a widow. I am a warrior. I am a murd- … Am I a murderer, as well?_ Her last memories were a haze. She remembered meeting with the Kingslayer. She remembered some of the things he had said. She remembered an uncontrollable rage. She remembered drowning.

“Did I kill him?” she wondered aloud. When her two companions looked at each other unsure about what to say to her, she knew the answer right away. “Does my son know?”

“Yes, my lady, he knows” answered Brienne.

 

She didn’t know what to feel. Remorse? Not really, not about killing the Kingslayer at any rate. But she did fear her son’s reaction. She had gone against his orders. Guilt? A bit maybe, but he was responsible for Ned’s death and Bran’s suffering. He was responsible for many of the problems her family was facing at the moment. “I want to speak to him, to my son” she said as she attempted to get up.

“You shouldn’t be up, my Lady” Maester Vyman told her gently.

“No, but I shall” she said vehemently and put her feet on the floor. She didn’t trust her legs to support her weight, and had it not been for Brienne’s quick reaction she would have fallen to the ground. “How did I end up in bed?” she asked her sworn shield.

“I brought you here, my Lady. I am sorry, I hope you do not take this as a lack of respect, but I followed you into the dungeons. I hid behind the walls and heard your conversation with the Kingslayer.”

“Did you hear everything he said?”

“Yes, my Lady. But by the time I realized what you were doing I was too late to stop you. You were unresponsive and covered in blood. I feared for your safety. I brought you here and called the Maester. We bathed you and helped you to bed.” Catelyn looked at the shift she was wearing. _This is definitely not what I was wearing when I talked to Ser Jamie._ “I am sorry, my lady, but I had to tell your son. He has been waiting for you to wake up. He has checked on you constantly, but I fear he is now meeting with his Lords.”

“How long did I sleep?” Catelyn asked confused.

“Two days my Lady” Maester Vyman answered. “You kept waking and screaming so we had to give you Dreamwine”

“I am alright now. I wish to dress and meet with my son.”

 

She had Brienne help her put on a gown and then went into her son’s solar where he found him with Edmure, Uncle Brynden, Theon, and Lords Umber, Karstark and Mallister.

“Mother, how are you?” Robb greeted her helping her to a chair.

“I am fine, thank you” she replied politely unsure of what the other men in the room might think of her.

“Cat, we were worried about you” her brother said. “You slept for so long and you screamed so much the few times you awoke.”

“I am fine” she repeated.

“Are you sure? Maybe you should rest. Would you like more Dreamwine? Milk of the Poppy?”

“I said I am fine Edmure.”

“But what you said, and what you did. I feared you had gone mad” he insisted.

“I am fine. And I’m not mad.” _Gods, what did I say in my sleep?_

“But Little Cat, do you remember what you did?” her uncle asked kneeling by her side.

“I do. Stop treating me like a child! I’m not a child and I’m not mad. I’m not mad.” _Am I trying to convince them or myself? Have I gone mad?_

“For what it’s worth, I applaud what you did” Lord Karstark said. “He killed my boys, he deserved nothing less. You would have had my sword and my fists had you asked.”

 

Catelyn smiled politely at Karstark wishing they would leave her alone with her son. She didn’t want all these men, however well intentioned they might be, to pass judgment on what she had done. Her son was King, he would pass judgment.

 

“Lords, can I please have a moment alone with my mother?” Robb asked urging the men to leave.

“Brienne, stay” Catelyn ordered her knight much to the surprise of Robb and the other men.

“Theon, stay” Robb said looking at his mother. “You’re family and my trusted right hand.”

 

“Mother, do you know what you did?” Robb asked her once the men had left.

“I do. And before you say anything” she stopped him raising her hand “I am not mad. I know I killed him. I did not set out to do that when I went to meet him. I wanted to ask him some questions, but he said some things and then ... Then I knew no more. I am sorry Robb. I am not sorry I killed him, I’m sorry I went against your orders.”

“I can’t allow for my subjects to go against me Mother.”

“Subjects?”

“It shows I am a weak King. I need to deal with subjects who betray me.”

“Betray?”

“Mother, why?” he cried.

“I don’t know son. The things he said, I just … I’m sorry”

“What did he say to you?” he asked softly

“Horrible things. About your father, about Bran. He admitted to attacking Ned and he admitted to pushing Bran in the tower. He felt no regret, Robb! No remorse! He actually boasted about it and other things” she blurted out in between sobs.

“But you killed him, he was my prisoner. MY prisoner!”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“No, mother. I am sorry. Had it been any other man I would have hanged him. I can’t hang you mother. But I do need to exert my authority as King.”

“Send me home. Force me to leave and let me go back home” she suggested.

“I wish it were that simple. Some Lords support what you did, but if I let actions like this go unpunished, what does it say about me?”

“Would you execute me? Your own mother?” she asked, the severity of her actions dawning on her.

“No, I can’t. I’m placing you under arrest. Theon, take her away” he said closing his eyes and trying hard to keep his tears at bay.

“I’m sorry, my Lady” Theon said. “Come with me, please” he gently helped her to her feet and ushered her to the hallway.

“Mother, one last question” Robb called before she left the room. “Had you been drinking before you went to see the Kingslayer?”

“Does it matter?”

“Mother, this has to stop. This is not you”

“It is now. Your mother is a mad widow with a penchant for drinking and murderous tendencies. Not the first time I’ve been accused of murder.” Her attempt at a joke fell flat as Robb just shook his head.

“Take her away, Theon”

 

She offered no resistance.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Was Catelyn out of character in killing Jamie?   
> I always thought she had that fire in her, a rage that she was always able to keep under control. Yet given the chance I think she would have killed Jamie, the assassin that came for Bran, Littlefinger, Walder Frey, Roose Bolton ... 
> 
> Thanks for reading.   
> Please leave your comments!


	8. A Sort of Homecoming (Sansa)

“How much longer do you think it will take us to get there?” Sansa asked her sister.

“I don’t know. If we are not attacked again, maybe tonight, or tomorrow, or three days, or ten! How could I know?”

“You’re always so nasty!”

“You always ask the stupidest questions!”

“Well, they said two days and we have been marching for two days already. Every time we come to a clearing in the forest or we cross a river or we come down a hill I look up expecting to see the walls of the castle and there’s just more green”

“Knock it off! Both of you” Yoren admonished them and grabbed them by the arms. “We should be there shortly, and then it’ll be up to your brother to sort you two up.”

 

“A castle!” the scout suddenly yelled.

“Can you see the banners?” Yoren asked him

“No, ser”

“I’ll go check” offered The Hound. “You wait here and I’ll go see what castle it is”

 

It took The Hound quite some time, but the news he gave when he returned was all that Sansa wanted to hear. “Riverrun” he announced.

 

They approached the castle and were stopped near the gates.

“Who goes there?” a guard yelled.

“It is Brother Yoren, of the Night Watch. We’d like a word with King Robb Stark. We’re looking for recruits for the Order.”

“There are no recruits here”

“Can we speak to him? I bear tidings he might want to hear”

“Just you” the guard said pointing at Yoren.

 

The wait was torture. All these days of marching and walking and what if Robb wasn’t here? Sansa couldn’t wait to be inside. She had never been to Riverrun before. She had never met her mother’s family. Her musings were interrupted by the sound of the gate opening. A knight came to greet them. He looked young but strong, brownish curly hair, a beard and a crown on his head. “Robb!” she yelled and sprinted into a run followed by her sister. Robb welcomed them inside and the three hugged and kissed each other.

 

“Yoren, we thank you for your services. Ask anything and it shall be granted.”

“We’d like some recruits for the Night Watch, if possible strong and healthy” he said sending a side glance to his current load.

“I’ll see what I can do about that” Robb replied. “And you, I remember you” he addressed the Hound and pushed him against a wall. “You were with the Lannisters. What are you doing here?”

“Robb, stop!” cried Sansa. “He’s my friend.”

“Your friend!?”

“Well, maybe not my friend. But he’s with me. He saved me. Please let him stay.”

“Stay? With us? But he’s a Lannister Sansa!”

“Not anymore” replied the Hound. “I have no master, I answer to no one”

“Ser, would you like to stay with us? Become part of my brother’s army?” Sansa asked him.

“The other option is the Wall, Clegane” interjected Yoren.

“Robb, please” said Sansa. “He saved me in King’s Landing when the riots started. They would have killed me. He protected me from Joffrey. He took me away when Stannis invaded and he took care of me all the way from King’s Landing. He even fought Lannister soldiers when we were attacked in the forest.”

“I vouch for that last part” said Yoren.

“Alright, I’ll see about that. For the time being I bid you welcome to Riverrun, Seat of House Tully. You’ll find room and board and I’ll see what I can do about getting recruits.”

“Thank you Lord Stark”

 

 

“Oh, Robb, we’re finally here!” Sansa cried when they were alone in Robb’s room.

“Sansa, Arya, I can’t believe I’m seeing you again. For a while we feared the worst. We got news of father’s execution, but no news about you. We knew you were in King’s Landing with the Queen” he addressed Sansa and all three grimaced at the mention of Cersei, “but we had no news from you” he added looking at Arya. “Where have you been?”

“Yoren got me out. He was taking recruits to the wall and he promised he would get me to Winterfell. I had no idea you were here.”

“Then when I was travelling with Ser Clegane we came across Yoren and his party and we have been travelling together since” explained Sansa

“I’m so glad you found each other. And that you found your way to me” their brother smiled.

“Now all we need to do is go home to Mother and Bran and Rickon!” Sansa exclaimed.

“It’s not that simple Sansa, we are in the middle of a war.”

“Well, maybe Sansa and I can go home.” Arya suggested. “I want to go see mother, I‘m sure she misses us.”

“Oh, I know she does, but she’s not at Winterfell” Robb said lowering his gaze to the floor.

“Where is she?” asked Arya

“Is she alright?” added Sansa

“She’s fine, and she’s here” Robb answered unable to look at his sisters.

“Well, let’s go see her!”

“It’s not that simple Sansa.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s in the dungeons?”

“What? Who put her there?” she asked outraged.

“I did” he said and raised his eyes to meet Sansa’s.

“Robb, why did you put mother in prison? Have you gone mad? I think the crown is not letting you think properly! Crowns do have a tendency to cloud judgment in men” _Gods, please don’t let my brother turn into Joffrey._

“My judgment has not been clouded, Sansa, but I fear hers might”

“What happened Robb?”

“We had the Kingslayer prisoner. She wanted to trade him for you, but I couldn’t do that. We argued and then she killed him.”

“Mother killed a man!?” Arya asked, her mouth agape.

“I want to go see her, Robb” pleaded Sansa.

“Follow me.”

 

Robb took them to the dungeons and the further down they went the more afraid Sansa became. What had happened to her mother? They kept going down the alleys and hallways and deep into the dungeons.

“Robb, where did you put Mother?” asked Sansa horrified as the cells kept getting darker and damper.

“At the end, there’s a cell with a window overlooking the river. She asked for that one. It’s not … it’s not that bad”

 

And he was right, somewhat. For a cell, it was spacious enough, aired and well lit. There was a cot and a stool, as well as a small table and a bucket. Sansa couldn’t help but gasp as she saw her mother. As soon as Robb opened the door she bolted inside and hugger tightly, her actions mirrored by Arya.

 

Tears rolled down the eyes of the four people in the cell. Robb gave his mother a sweet kiss on her forehead and retired leaving the girls alone. For a moment all three just stood there in silence, and when they spoke, they all did it at the same time. They burst into laughter and hugged each other again.

 

It felt good to see her again, in spite of her haggard appearance and her smell. This woman with a dirty dress and unkempt hair was not the mother she remembered, who was always properly attired, her hair in a beautiful braid and always smelled clean and fresh. She always smelled of honey and lemons, but now she reeked of sweat and there was a lingering stench of waste in the cell. Sansa didn’t know if it came from her mother or if it was just impregnated in the walls. In any case, it still felt good to put her arms around her and to be embraced by her again.

 

They talked for hours. Sansa told her of her ordeal at the court, of her father’s execution, of all the things Joffrey had done and said to her, of the beatings, of the riots, of Stannis’s attack and her subsequent escape with The Hound. Arya filled her in with her adventures with Yoren and the band of recruits. They told her how they had found each other and about the attack by Lannister soldiers. Catelyn embraced her daughters and could not stop kissing them with tears running down her face. She told them everything that had happened after they had left Winterfell with their father: how Bran would not wake up, about the assassin that had attacked them and how she had fought him, how they realized the Lannisters were behind everything and how she had gone to King’s Landing to warn their father.

“You were in King’s Landing and did not see us?”

“I couldn’t sweetling. It would have only aroused suspicion. In retrospect I wish I had. I wish I had smuggled you and your father out of that damned city!” Then she went on to tell them how she had been tricked by Littlefinger and how she had taken the Imp to her sister’s. “It’s easy to see how foolish my actions look in hindsight, but at the time I didn’t know better.” She told them how instead of going back home to Winterfell she had met with Robb on his way south. “That’s when we got word of your father’s execution”

“Murder!” Arya corrected her.

“Yes, murder” Catelyn agreed. “And that’s when your father’s bannermen named Robb King in the North.”

“You must have been so proud of him!” Sansa thought aloud.

“Mhh. Yes. I don’t know. I had mixed feeling about it. I just wanted to go home, I didn’t want this bloody war.”

 

Sansa felt sad for her mother. She sounded so gloomy and miserable. She said she had tried to convince Robb to trade the Kingslayer for them, but that Robb would not agree. She defended her son and explained that he had his reasons. Sansa was not so sure. _He could have saved us and he left us there._ Then she went on to tell them how Robb had sent her to negotiate with Renly. Apparently a shadow with Stannis’s face had crept into the tent and killed Renly and her mother and another woman had been wrongfully accused. Sansa shuddered when she told them of Stannis, her Red Priestess and the sacrifice by the beach.

“Mother, they almost killed you!”

“Were you hurt?” Arya asked, and when their mother nodded Arya asked to see the scars.

“Arya!” Sansa scolded her sister “That’s not nice!”

“Stop mothering me. You have no right!” she replied. “Mother, she has been scolding me and telling me off ever since we met again on the road!”

“Well, you have been nasty and rude!”

“But it’s not your place to yell at me!”

 

Their exchange was interrupted by her mother’s laughter. “Gods, I missed that!” she sighed and they all joined in the mirth. Her mother continued her narration of the events that followed: how this man Davos had saved her and brought her here, how Brienne had sworn herself as her personal guard and how she had killed Jamie Lannister.

 

“I still can’t believe you killed him! Did he bleed? Did he scream?”

“Arya stop!” he mother begged. “I don’t know. My memories of the event are a bit fuzzy. I’m not proud of it. I’m not sorry I killed him, but I do regret what it did to Robb. I put him in a position where he had to punish his own mother. By all rights, he could have had me executed.”

“How can you say that?” Sansa asked enraged. “He had no right to put you here. I’ll talk to him!”

“Sansa wait. Robb is not at fault here, I am. He is the King and I went against his orders.”

“But it’s not right”

“No, it’s not. We should all be home with your father and you should be playing with your little brothers. But that’s not going to happen. Your father is gone and Bran will never walk again. Nothing of this is right. But do not blame Robb, please. He is in a difficult position and he needs our support. I made things harder for him, don’t do the same. Help him, please.”

 

 

After leaving the cell Sansa went straight to her brother’s study.

“Hello Your Grace, may I come in?” she smiled playfully from the door. “Mother told me everything. She doesn’t blame you. In fact, she defends you.”

“Oh, Sansa. I didn’t know what to do”

“Let her go. Let’s all go home. Forget this war, this crown. Bran and Rickon are all alone. We need to go home.”

“Oh, Sansa. I wish it were that easy. … I need to marry, you know” he added with a mirthless laugh.

“What? Why? Who?”

“Whoa, which question should I answer first? What, why, or who?” he said with a grin.

“Start with the Who”

“A Frey”

“Which one?”

“I don’t know, just a Frey.”

“Okay, let’s move on to the Why”

“When we were marching south to King’s Landing to free father, we had to cross the river at the Twins. Walder Frey would only open the gates for us if we agreed to some terms: a squire, a couple of fostered children, and two marriages. You were already betrothed to Joffrey, so we agreed Arya would marry one of his sons and I would marry one of his daughters when the war was over.”

“Does Arya know?”

“I haven’t told her yet”

“She won’t be happy about that”

“No” he sighed. “I’m tired Sansa.”

“We all are. Let’s go home. We can avenge father, but that will not bring him back. The best way to honor Father is for us to remain safe and lead happy lives and give him lots of heirs. We can’t do that if we are at war, or worse, if we lose the war.”

“Alright” he said after a long painful silence. “I’ll write to Walder Frey. I’ll marry a girl, we’ll go home and then I’ll bend the knee to Joffrey so long as he agrees to my terms.”

“And what would those be?”

“To withdraw Father’s charges and clear his name, to leave the North be, to stop the ravaging in the Riverlands, to return all prisoners in exchange for theirs.”

“And one annulment of a betrothal” she added.

“And one annulment of a betrothal” he repeated with a smile.

“Are you sure?”

“Well, it felt nice to be King, wearing a crown and all, but” he paused and grabbed her hand “there are more important things.”

“Let’s go home” she smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

 

 

Sansa knew Robb was meeting his Lords but she wanted no part in that meeting. She knew exactly what Robb was going to say and could only venture a guess as to how the Lords would react. Hopefully they would agree. It would not be an easy task to convince these vengeance-hungry lords to put away their weapons, pack up and leave. Maybe they could be swayed with the idea of going back to their families. What about the River Lords? Would they accept bending the knee to the King who had laid waste to their lands? The meeting went on for hours. When it was over Sansa saw some Lords walk away in anger and disgust, but the vast majority stayed in the hall and partook in the toast that came after.

 

 

Unfortunately their toast was cut short by the tolling of bells. Sansa could see the Maester and some nurses running down the hallways. Something had happened and it did not look good.

 

“Lord Hoster Tully has passed” one of the chambermaids came to inform the men in the Hall. She saw her uncle Edmure and Brynden Tully get up and sprint out of the Hall.

 

“We should tell mother” she told her brother.

“I’ll go” he said.

 

 

Lord Tully was laid to rest the following morning. Sansa had read about Tully funerals but she had never seen one. She watched with fascination as the body of her grandfather was placed on a boat and set alight with an arrow. The flaming boat just sailed out of sight down the river. She felt somewhat guilty at not feeling much pain. _I don’t even know him, I have never seen him._ But one look at her mother’s dejected face almost broke her heart. _At least Robb let her out so she could say goodbye to her father. “We’re all going home, Mother, just as you wanted!”_ she wanted to tell her.But now was not the time. All she could do for her mother now was hold her hand as she buried her face on her Uncle Brynden’s chest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the Starks are all together, safe and sound. They have found each other and they're going home to Bran and Rickon ... There's only one little thing they need to do first: a wedding at the Twins ... No big deal ...


	9. News, demands and plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people have pointed out that last chapter seemed rushed and not very well thought out (Robb's decision to abandon the war and go home), but I saw it this way: Robb never really wanted to rule from the Iron Throne. At the beginning all he wanted was to get his father and his sisters back. But then they killed his father and he kind of got a taste for power and got a bit hooked on the idea of ruling the North as King. Yet, now that his sisters are back, things have changed. He knows his father is never coming back, but his sisters are with him and his family is as complete at it will ever be. He saw the toll this whole war was taking on his family (his mother, his siblings and himself) and he realized that more fighting was in vain. He could still bend the knee to Joffrey (so long as he accepted his terms) and go back to the way things used to be. His terms are not too greedy nor too soft: peace for the Kingdom and exchange of prisoners. ... True, some of his Lords did not agree (and rightly so), but some did (or at least respected his decision). ...
> 
> One of my favourite parts in the books is when the Northerners get news of Ned's execution and the Northern bannermen name Robb King in the North, Cat speaks out. She speaks about the futily of war. She explains that when they first set out they wanted two things: for the ravaging in the Riverlands to stop and for the Lannisters to let Ned go. She says that one is done (they had stopped the pillaging in the Riverlands) and the other was forever beyond their reach (Ned). She suggests putting an end to the stupid war and for everybody to go home - no more senseless deaths. Unfortunately they cut that scene from the show. I wanted to bring it back. ... Fighting for the sake of pride is just plain stupid. Sometimes you need to lose something in order to gain a much bigger benefit. So that is what Robb is doing. ... Sorry if you felt that was a bit of a let-down.
> 
> So now, if everything goes according to his plan, Robb is going to mary his Frey girl, go home and then write to Joffrey from Winterfell ... if everything goes according to plan ;)
> 
> This chapter is just letters sent between Robb, Walder Frey, Tywin Lannister and Roose Bolton ... aka the wedding planners ;)

To: Lord Walder Frey

From: Lord Robb Stark.

 

_Lord Walder,_

_It is with great pleasure that I announce that I plan to end this war soon so I can marry your daughter. I have been speaking with your son Olyvar and he suggested I marry his sister Roslin. I await your reply._

_Lord Robb Stark_

 

*******************************************

 

To: Lord Tywin Lannister

From: Lord Walder Frey

 

_Lord Tywin,_

_Apparently the Young Wolf is making some move. He will marry one of my daughters and put an end to the war. I do not know if he plans to bend the knee to your grandson or attack. I can help you defeat this Northern horde. As per our previous correspondence, I am open to your terms._

_Lord Walder Frey_

 

********************************************

 

To: Lord Walder Frey

From: Lord Tywin Lannister

 

_Lord Walder,_

_If you wish to help, speak your mind. I have no time for games. I can offer you a reward if you help me beat the Wolves that killed my son_

_Lord Tywin Lannister_

 

*******************************************

 

To: Lord Tywin Lannister

From: Lord Walder Frey

 

_Lord Tywin,_

_As you well know, I have a surplus of sons and daughters, grandsons and granddaughters. I want good marriages for them. I want to be named Lord Paramount of the Riverlands. I can stop the Wolves but I want assurances._

_Lord Walder Frey_

 

******************************************

 

To: Lord Walder Frey

From: Lord Tywin Lannister

 

_Lord Walder,_

_Your demands will be met. Rid me of the wolves and I’ll rid you of the trout._

_Lord Tywin Lannister._

 

*******************************************

 

To: Lord Roose Bolton

From: Lord Walder Frey

 

_Lord Roose,_

_Regarding our conversation moons past: it is done. We have a wedding to celebrate. The wine will run red._

_Lord Walder Frey_

*********************************************

 

To: Lord Tywin Lannister

From: Lord Roose Bolton

 

_Lord Tywin,_

_I believe I can be of service. I have news I can share with you. All I ask is that with the Starks gone I be named Warden of the North. You will find a great ally in me._

_Lord Roose Bolton_

 

********************************************

 

To: Lord Roose Bolton, Future Warden of the North

From: Lord Tywin Lannister

 

_Lord Roose,_

_Your demands will be met. What news have you?_

_Lord Tywin Lannister_

 

*******************************************

 

To: Lord Tywin Lannister

From: Lord Roose Bolton

 

_Lord Tywin,_

_It was the mother trout that killed your son. The two pups that disappeared from King’s Landing have been reunited with their family. I suspect this marriage is a ruse to distract us and the young wolf is ready to pounce._

_Lord Roose Bolton_

 

*******************************************

 

To: Lord Roose Bolton

From: Lord Tywin Lannister

 

_Lord Roose,_

_Make sure the bitch that killed my son suffers the same fate. Eliminate the young wolf and his men. Bring me the two pups, they may be of use. The north will be yours. Pass on my instructions to Lord Walder Frey._

_Lord Tywin Lannister._

 

*********************************************

 

To: Lord Walder Frey

From: Lord Roose Bolton

 

_Lord Walder,_

_Everything has been arranged. We will summon the Wolves to your Hall and make our move. They shall not leave your walls. Robb Stark and his men are to be eliminated as well as Lady Catelyn. The two Stark girls are to be sent to King’s Landing. The Riverlands shall be yours and the North will be mine._

_Lord Roose Bolton_

 

******************************************

 

To: Lord Robb Stark

From: Lord Walder Frey

 

_Lord Robb,_

_Your news have been received with great pleasure. My daughter Roslin is eager to meet you and start her life as Lady Stark in Winterfell. We will await you and yours in our Halls in a moon’s turn. May the Halls run red with wine and may the music fill our ears._

_Lord Walder Frey._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: The Wedding!


	10. A Wedding (Arya)

She was tired of walking and marching, as if she hadn’t done enough in the past few weeks. Why did they have to go to the Twins? Why did his brother had to marry a girl they had never seen? She hoped she never had to marry. Being surrounded by men on her way from King’s Landing to Riverrun she saw how awful they could be. They talked of girls as if they were objects, they pulled out their cocks - _yes “cocks” Sansa, I’m using the word “cock” and there’s nothing you can say about it_ – and pissed wherever they wanted, they burped, farted and were just gross in general. She wanted a man like her father. If she ever married she wanted to have the same relationship her parents had had.

 

When they finally reached the Twins she had been relieved, until they stepped inside and she saw how horrid it was. The castle itself was grey and gloomy, and it smelled damp. The people seemed disgusting and had a weird look in their eyes. Old Lord Walder looked like a creature from Old Nan tales, decrepit, bent, wrinkled, and with a horrible smell. He smelled of old and she hated old. The only old man she liked was Maester Luwin, and he wasn’t nearly as old as this Walder Frey. Her mother didn’t look very comfortable either. She had asked for bread and salt and Old Walder had begrudgingly accepted. _Why do we need bread and salt? Their bread tastes horrible and besides, they are our allies and Robb is marrying their girl. Why do we need guest rights?_ Robb on the other hand, was ecstatic. The minute he had laid eyes on Roslin his expression had changed. He had been morose and moody the whole way to the Twins, but as soon as he saw her, his eyes lit up. Arya had to admit, the girl was somewhat good looking, but then again, at the Twins the standard was very low. This girl had nothing on Sansa. _Wow, am I really complimenting my sister? What’s wrong with me?_

 

They were taken to the chambers reserved for them, where they could bathe and rest. Her mother had insisted she washed and made herself presentable. She had even insisted she braided her hair. She complained, but only out of habit. Deep inside she was enjoying having her mother pamper her and doing her hair. It had been so long …

 

The wedding celebration was long and boring. She tried to sneak out into the hallway but was stopped by a Frey. So she sat next to her uncle and tried to take a sip from his glass.

“Stop there you little thief!” he slapped her hand gently. “Does you mother know you’re trying to steal my drink?”

 

She could see her sister talking to several boys. _She’s so good at this. I suck_ , she thought. Suddenly she saw a man getting too close to her sister. But not a second later The Hound appeared and scared him away. _Gods, I hate him! He killed Mycah! But he saved Sansa. And he has been protecting her. I like the way he chased that stupid Frey away from her_ , she grinned to herself.

 

The food was horrible, the drinks were all watered down and the music was terrible. _Cheap Freys, couldn’t even pay decent musicians!_ She saw her mother dancing with the GreatJon. She looked happy for a change. When her mother sat down she sat next to her.

 

“You dance really well mother, you should teach me”

“I will. When we get home I will.”

“Robb seems happy. Look at him on the dais with his new little wife. He seems to have forgotten about us.”

“I hope they have a happy marriage”

“Like yours and father’s?”

“Yes” she replied with a sad smile.

“Was your wedding as boring as this one?”

“I don’t know. I did not enjoy it much. I was far too nervous.”

“For the wedding or the bedding?”

“Arya! You don’t … what do you know about bedding anyway?” her mother asked horrified.

“Enough. I saw things in King’s Landing. And I used to spy on Theon.”

“We’ll talk later about this. As for my wedding, it was alright. Now the bedding” her mother paused and grimaced “… I hated the ceremony, having my dress torn in front of all the guests”

“I am sure you endured it with grace” a male voice said behind them.

“Oh, Lord Bolton” her mother said surprised, her cheeks flushed. “I didn’t know you were there”

“May I sit down?”

“Of course. Drink?” Catelyn offered pouring herself a glass.

“No thank you my Lady, I don’t drink.”

“Not often do I meet a man who does not drink at a party. Although, now that you mention it, I have noticed men are not drinking as much as I had expected. You would think by now half the men would be drunk.”

“It lulls the senses” Bolton replied flatly.

“And do you really need your senses at a wedding?” Catelyn asked.

“It depends on the company” he replied placing his hand on her mother’s arm. Catelyn’s expression changed and she carefully lifted his sleeve. _Chainmail! Why would he wear chainmail to a party?_ Arya wondered and then saw her mother’s face stiffen.

“Excuse me” Catelyn said. “Arya come with me. I need to show you something” her mother suddenly got up and grabbed her by the arm. “Sit next to Sansa and do not move. Make sure Brienne or The Hound or Theon are next to you.”

“Mother, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know. I’ll be right back” she said and went to talk to Robb.

 

Catelyn whispered into Robb’s ear and Arya saw her brother frown as he went to talk to the GreatJon and Lord Umber. Before Arya could reach Sansa, she heard Lord Walder get up.

 

“What do you say my friends? Is it time for the bedding?”

“Bedding! Bedding! Bedding!” the guests started yelling, and that’s when the first arrow was shot.

 

Arya hid behind a table and crawled her way to Sansa as the arrows kept raining down. _Damned musicians! They are freaking archers. No wonder their music sucked._

 

From behind the table she could see Robb and his men engrossed in battle with the Frey men. _Needle!_ She suddenly thought. Her mother had forbidden her to bring it to the party. _“It is not proper” she had said. Well, this is not proper either!_ she thought.

She hid and saw the melee of men fighting, some with swords and knives, some with their bare hands. She yelled her brother’s name when Robb was about to be killed but Theon stepped out from behind and killed the man. So much blood, so many people yelling. She could see The Hound and her mother’s uncle fighting side by side. Edmure was fending off two men and was not doing so well when the SmallJon stepped in to give a hand. Suddenly she was lifted off the ground. She tried to fight until she saw it was Dacey Mormont. “Come on, your brother asked me to take you out of here.” She was about to complain when she saw Brienne taking Sansa, and her mother walking right behind them.

 

They were leaving the hall when she heard her mother yell in pain and fall to the floor. With a grimace she got up and told them to keep going, but Arya could see an arrow protruding from her mother’s back. Before they reached the door she turned around and saw Robb fall to an arrow in his shoulder. Both Dacey and Brienne tried to shove the three Stark women out the door, but her mother slipped away and ran back into the hall.

 

“Mother!” she called.

“Lady Catelyn” Brienne called.

Her mother just yelled for them to go and ran back to Robb.

 

Once out in the hallway they made their way out into the gardens. They could see the tents of their soldiers on fire and realized that the same battle that was taking place inside was also taking place outside. The Freys had betrayed them.

 

They hid behind the bushes and she suddenly felt very hungry. _She was panting. She had been running for too long. The lone wolf dies but the pack survives. She had been alone for a long time. She needed her pack. Her pack was here. She could feel her brother kept behind bars. She could not feel her sister, but she hadn’t felt her in a long time. She had a vague recollection of hearing her howl in pain one last time and then silence. Her other brothers were too far away. Back home. But one of her brothers was here, she could feel him, she could smell him. She had to free him. If only she could get close to the girl._

 

“Nymeria!” Arya suddenly yelled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Nymeria is back!   
> Next we get to see what happened inside the Twins ... The Lannisters send their regards.


	11. The Lannisters send their regards (Robb)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, inside the Twins ...

His shoulder burned. He tried to remove the arrow but he knew he would bleed out if he did. Besides, he had no time to spare as another man lunged at him. He found that he had no strength to lift his sword when the man suddenly fell to the floor. Behind the man his mother stood with a knife in her hand.

“Robb!” she yelled.

“I’m alright mother” he replied. “I asked you to leave!”

“And if I had you would be dead!”

 

Another shower of arrows forced them behind the table. Suddenly Old Walder Frey stood up and ordered for the fighting to stop.

 

“Young Wolf” he spat. “You’re surrounded. Give in now and the bloodshed will stop.”

“What have you done, Lord Walder?” he asked the old man. “I gave you the marriage you wanted”

“Yeah, you did. But I was offered a better deal. Lord Bolton, would you like to do the honors?”

 

Robb saw Roose Bolton come to him sword in hand, but before he could react his mother shouted. She was holding a knife to one of Walder Frey’s sons.

“Lord Walder” she said. “Let it end. Let my son go.”

“Why should I?”

“He is my son, please” she continued and Robb saw she was making a great effort just trying to stay on her feet. _She has an arrow in her back!_ he suddenly realized. “Let him go and we will forget this, we will seek no vengeance. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New. Please! A son for a son” she said applying pressure to the knife on the young Frey’s throat almost breaking the skin.

“I have plenty of sons, and I can always have more”

“Robb get up and walk out” she cried. “Please! Lord Walder, let my son go”

“And why would I do that?”

“On my honor as a Tully, on my honor as a Stark, you let my son go or I will cut your son’s throat” she threatened venomously.

 

Robb called out to her, but a man blocked his vision. Lord Roose Bolton.

“Tywin Lannister sends his regards” he said.

 

 _Boom!_ The door to the Hall burst open and in strode two direwolves, Brienne, Dacey Mormont and his two sisters. Many men with the Stark sigil followed right behind them. Greywind leapt up to Lord Bolton and ripped his throat as the other wolf ran up to the dais and growled at Lord Walder Frey.

 

“Robb!” he heard Arya yell. _Nymeria,_ he suddenly realized.

“Nymeria sweet little sister, this man is mine” he said calmly petting the wolf’s back. Nymeria retreated and he faced Walder Frey. “You know” he addressed the man on the high chair “this is where you die old man. Any last words?”

“Not for you” he spat back. Robb looked him in the eye and slowly but steadily pushed his sword into Walder Frey’s chest.

 

The tide of the battle rapidly changed as the Stark men outnumbered the Frey and Bolton men in the room. Robb was happy to see his men were getting the upper hand. A yell he knew well suddenly caught his attention and he saw his mother being pinned by a soldier. He managed to cut her on her side before Theon leapt on the man and threw him aside. He wasted no time and slashed the man’s throat before helping Catelyn to her feet. Robb nodded gratefully at Theon and then turned his attention back to the fight.

 

When the Frey men saw Old Walder had died and realized their plight was hopeless, they started surrendering one by one. They were all quickly taken to the dungeons, both men and women, young and old.

 

“What about your wife?” Edmure asked him.

“Her as well” Robb answered with disdain.

 

The battle was over and all the wounded were taken to the infirmary to have their injuries tended to. Robb himself had to have the arrow in his shoulder removed and some other cuts cleaned and stitched. He saw many of his men being taken care of by the maids of the Twins, and then he saw his mother. She had taken an arrow in her back and had a gash on her side. He felt safe when he saw Lady Brienne by her side, and his mother smiled at him.

“Go, I’m fine, Robb. Go check on your sisters” she told him.

 

Brynden Tully came looking for him. “You have to see this, Your Grace.”

“Lord Tully, you know it’s not Your Grace any more. I’m not fighting for the throne, remember?”

“Oh, I believe you will be now” he said and took him to Lord Frey’s solar.

 

On the desk he found many letters. Edmure and the GreatJon were cursing and balling their fists, the contents of the letters obviously having aroused their anger.

“What’s this?” he asked them.

“Read” his uncle told him.

 

He found correspondence between Walder Frey and Roose Bolton and Tywin Lannister, incriminating evidence that this whole marriage had been a sham, an excuse to have them all murdered. They were going to kill him, his mother and all his men and they were going to take Arya and Sansa back to King’s Landing. Tywin Lannister had promised the Riverlands to the Freys and the North to the Boltons.

 

“Damned Lannisters!” he cursed.

“Tywin Lannister is at Harrenall” Brynden Tully reminded him.

“We take the Green Fork we can be there in four days” added Lord Karstark.

“I don’t bend the knee for no backstabbing inbred bastard” said the GreatJon. Robb looked at his bannermen unsure of what to say or do. “There stands the only King I bend the knee to” the GreatJon stated.

“The King in the North”

“The King in the North”

“The King in the North”

 

They spent the rest of the day making plans and devising strategies to attack Tywin’s forces at Harrenhall.

“What do you mean to do with The Twins, Your Grace?” Edmure asked him.

He had been pondering on that ever since the fight at the hall had ended. “There will be a new Lord at the Twins. The Freys will be forced to pledge allegiance to this new Lord and it will be up to him to pardon or execute them. It makes no matter to me if the lot of them are killed. Scum. This new Lord will become a vassal of the Lord Paramount of the Trident, my uncle Lord Edmure Tully.”

“And who will that Lord be, Your Grace?”

“My good friend Theon Greyjoy”.

 

Theon kneeled before Robb and Robb placed his sword on his friend’s shoulder. “You are hereby granted Lordship, Lord Theon Greyjoy, Lord of the Crossing.”

“My sword is yours” he vowed “now and always.

“Now and always” repeated Robb.

Theon then kneeled before Edmure Tully and swore his vows “Lord Tully, it will be my honor and my duty to uphold your laws and guard the Crossing for you. My sword is yours”

“Rise Lord Greyjoy” said Edmure.

 

Robb spoke to his mother and his sisters later that evening. He told them of the letters they had found and the betrayal by the Freys and the Boltons. “Plans have changed mother” he said. “We’re going to fight Tywin Lannister and I will make him pay. My bannermen have named me their King again. We’re going to war.” Before his mother could protest he added “You are going back home with the girls. Just like you wanted, to Bran and Rickon”

“I wanted you to come as well” she said dryly.

“I can’t mother, but I’ll be home soon, I promise. You will take Lady Brienne with you and some men to help you. You will have to deal with the Boltons at the Dreadfort. I know Roose’s bastard is there but I don’t know how much he knew or approved of his father’s betrayal.”

“What will you do?”

“We’re marching to Harrenall”

 


	12. Paying your debts (The Hound)

_The Little Bird is safe._

_She’s going home._

_She’s with her family._

_I did it._

_I saved her._

_She’s safe …_ Sandor Clegane thought, and then his eyes closed.

 

**************************************

 

A week ago:

 

All this talk of honor, and Lordships, and vows …. What did titles matter? He had been a Kingsguard! A Kingsguard for fuck’s sake! A dog like him! Titles were a joke. He could never take them seriously. And now all these men were talking of vows and cheering their King in the North. They will all die soon. The Starks, the Tullies, the Lannisters, the Tyrells. They will all die one die. Even himself, Ser Sandor Clegane _– I am no Ser_ – The Hound, he will also die. Oh, but when he did he would take a thousand men down with him. Maybe not a thousand. He could content himself with only one man – his brother.

 

After the bloody wedding at the Twins, it was decided the Stark women (the mother and the two girls) plus that beast of a woman, Lady Brienne, would go back home to Winterfell. He was sorry to see his Little Bird leave, but he was happy knowing she was safe. She didn’t need him anymore. The Twins had been given to that scrawny big-toothed Kraken. _What does a Kraken know of castles, savages who live in caves under the sea!?_ If it were up to him, he would have leveled that good-for-nothing bunch of rocks to the ground. So Lord Theon Greyjoy would now be Lord of the Crossing and had sworn fealty to Lord Edmure Tully, Lord Paramount of the Trident, all subjects to the King in the North …. Such long words, so many titles. _Real knights do not need words, they only need a sword_ , and his grip on the pommel of his blade tightened.  

 

They were marching to Harrenhal, where they knew Tywin Lannister commanded his army from - to “kick some Lannister arse” as the men kept chanting. He could do that. _If only to stick up my sword up that little piece of shit of a King._ The bare memory of Joffrey was enough to stir all sorts of emotions within him; what he had put this Little Bird through, what he had made him do. The sister, that little wild she-wolf had the right of it. He had killed that boy, the butcher’s boy, his horse trampled all over his small body, all at the behest of the little shit King. _But that craven will not be at Harrenhal, he’ll be hiding behind the walls of his castle under his mother’s skirts. His grandfather will have to suffice – for now._

 

They were an army of angry men: men who had had their liege Lord killed and their new King betrayed; men who had lost their lands and loved ones to the Lannisters; men who had been ready to go home only to be enraged once again by the treacherous actions of the Lannisters and their allies. Clegane guessed it was the betrayal from within their own ranks that hurt the most. So when an army from the Vale had joined them two days after leaving the Twins, they were very well received. Apparently lady Lysa Tully had come to her senses and had decided to support her nephew in the war. Clegane cared little for Houses and their loyalty. _The more the better_ : more swords to kill Lannisters with was all that mattered to him.

 

Almost a week it took them to march to Harrenhal. They knew they were close, but before they even saw the castle they made out the outline of what looked like an army in the horizon. A line of men and horses riding towards them. Galloping. They would meet soon, and when they did there was no certainty he would leave this filed alive. So far he had been lucky. Many battles, many fights and only one scar to show. And that scar had not come from a blade, it had come from fire. It had not been an enemy who gave him that scar, it had been his own brother.

 

 

_Clash! Whoosh! Bang!_

 

The battle was fierce. Fierce and cruel. Two mighty armies facing each other on the field. Everywhere he looked he saw bodies, blood, guts, fallen limbs. And then he saw him …. Big, giant, humongous. Wielding his sword right and left. Chopping off arms, legs, heads. For a moment he felt like running away. _Turn around_ , he told himself _, leave this hell. Run for your life._

But then a sweet angelic face occupied his mind. _Sweet little bird, no more than fifteen years of age. Pale skin, hair the color of mud, dark brown eyes. “Please ser, stop!” but his ears were deaf. “I am no ser.”_ Her desperate screams echoed in his mind. His brother had turned him into a monster. He was a dog and his brother had been his first master. He had made him do things, horrible things, just like Joffrey had. _Kersei was her name. Kersei. He would never forget her name. It rhymed with mercy, a mercy she kept asking for and he never gave her._ “ _Please ser, have mercy. Please Ser, stop!” but he never did._ He hadn’t saved her, but he could lay her to rest. Not that it would change things – she will remain dead. He had paid for what he had done, but now he could make sure the man responsible for his monstrous act also paid.

 

“Brother!” he called out.

The gigantic brute turned and let out a loud perverse guffaw. “But if it isn’t my Little Dog! Come here doggie, come get your bone” he taunted.

And go to him he did … the two brothers engaged in a bloody fight. A clash of swords out of which neither would come out unscathed. One of them will most surely die, maybe both. There was no room on this planet for both Clegane brothers.

 

Gregor Clegane was a formidable opponent. He was gigantic, bigger than any person Sandor had ever met. _The mountain that rides_. He was strong and a magnificent fighter. As skilled a fighter he may as well be, Sandor knew he was no match for his brother. But still, he would do his best to make sure his bother did not breathe after their bloody dance, regardless of the cost to himself. He didn’t mind dying so long as his brother died as well.

 

They kept exchanging blow for blow, hit for hit, cut for cut, and block for block. His arms were getting tired. His legs were about to give. He could feel his blood pumping in his chest. His heart was on fire. No! Not fire! Fire conjured up memories he could not afford right now. He could let nothing cloud his mind, not fire, not a toy, not his Little Bird.

 

Suddenly he felt his sword pierce something soft. He saw his brother’s expression turn grim, his mouth twitch and his eyes grow wild. He pulled out his sword and reveled in the blood dripping from it. The Mountain never let go of his sword and tried a last ditch effort to make a lunge for him. Sandor tried to get out of his way but was not quick enough. He felt the whole weight of his brother pull him down and something cold and thin bite him from the inside. Both brothers collapsed in a heap of armor and blood.

 

_I did not save you Kersei, but I have avenged you. I’ve killed the man who killed you: myself. And I’ve killed the man responsible for it: my brother._

 

Then his mind turned to another Little Bird: the red haired beauty who had helped him find redemption. Sansa was her name. _The Little Bird is safe. She’s going home. She’s with her family. I did it. I saved her. She’s safe …_ Sandor Clegane thought, and then his eyes closed.

 

*************************************

 

“This one’s alive!” he heard someone shout and then felt hands on his body.

“Don’t touch me” he spat gruffly and grabbed the man’s hand forcefully. The man had pulled his brother’s body off him and was trying to help him to his feet. “Don’t need your help” he hissed.

“Whoa, Hound, hold on, I’m a friend” he recognized SmallJon’s voice. “We won. Get up so you can see the lions with their tails between their legs” he said cheerfully.

 

The Hound stood on his feet and gave his brother’s body a swift kick. “He’s dead” the SmallJon said. “Big guy you chose to pick a fight with”.

“He was my brother”

“Oh” the SmallJon said puzzled. “I’m sorry, I guess” he continued, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

“I’m not. I killed him” was all the explanation the Hound gave.

 

So it was true. They had won. He could see many Lannister banners on the ground red with blood, but he could also see Stark and Tully banners. Victory had not been cheap.

 

“Stark, Tully, Umber, Karstark, Manderly, Reed, Royce” a strong voice started calling out names, some of which he didn’t even recognize. It was the Young Stark boy, Sansa’s brother, the so-called King in the North. “We have fought bravely and achieved a very important victory today. These lions thought they could beat us. They tricked us. They paid some of OUR men to betray us. Well, they were never our men. Because I know any one of our men is worth ten of them, twenty of them, a hundred of them. And that’s why we have prevailed. We will send the little Lion Bastard King a message. And we have just the right messenger” and he brought forward a bound and gagged Tywin Lannister.

 

“You will tell your ill-begotten inbred grandson that the South shall never rule the North again, shall never set foot in the North again, shall never breathe the air of the North again. And when he asks you who sent the message you will say that it was the King in the North. Robb Stark, King in the North, The Vale and the Riverlands. And when his silly little Kingship squeaks _No grandpapa, we should go fight them_ , you will answer NO, because this is what will happen to any Lion who will dare come into our lands” he spat as Lord Karstark held Tywin Lannister’s hand firmly and Robb cut off his fingers without a warning. Clegane had to give the old man credit. He didn’t even flinch as the sword came down on his hand and he didn’t even look as blood started to pour out where his fingers had been.

 

“Now, before we send you home with the message, I need to show you what happens to men who double cross me, whether by choice or because they follow orders. You know what happens to them? They do not live” Robb finished with disdain. He looked at his prisoners kneeling on the ground and then back at Tywin Lannister. He gave the command to his Lords who started butchering the bound Lannister men and then he grabbed Tywin Lannister by the neck and started singing.

 

_And who are you, the proud Lord said._

_That I must bow so low?_

_Only a wolf of a different coat_

_That’s all the truth I know._

Through the shrieks and pleas of the dying men, King Robb kept singing.

 

_In a coat of blue or a coat of grey_

_A wolf still has paws_

_And mine are long and sharp my Lord_

_As long and sharp as yours._

_And now the rains weep over his lands_

_With not a soul to hear._

“You wanted to have me killed, my men killed, my mother killed, my sisters imprisoned. When you play with wolves, you should expect to get bitten” he told the old man and threw him to the ground. “Go. Go home lone lion and tell everyone of what happened here. The North, The Vale and the Riverlands are ours!”

 

The Hound had seen cruelty, he had seen bloodshed, he had seen suffering, but this was something else entirely. _Old Ned Stark would never approve of this. But so much honor, look what it got him._ There was no honor in this. This was pure Rage … and he could live with that _._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Do you think Robb was out of character? Do you think his actions were too rash and cruel? Ned would never have done that, but then again, Ned was never betrayed the way Robb was ... They are not interested in the Iron Throne, what they want now is for the North and the Riverlands to be free of the tyranny of Joffrey (and his family). Destryoying their army and sending the message back with a maimed and humiliated Tywin will drive the point home (or enrage the Lannisters even more?). 
> 
> Thanks


	13. The Family Returns (Maester Luwin)

They were supposed to arrive in just a matter of days. He had received the raven and had shared his joy with the children. Rickon was ecstatic that his sisters and his mother were coming back home. Bran, on the other hand … well, he didn’t know what to make of the boy. He had helped him as best as he could. He had tried with lessons of history, of the different families and their sigils, of the geography of the land, medicine and the human body, he had even shown him what had been done to his body and why it was that he could not walk any more. But nothing seemed to move the young boy. He had hoped news of his family coming back would cheer him up, but … nothing seemed to work. He only seemed happy when he sat with his wolf. The boy was just plain and simply sad.

 

When the horn was blown signaling the arrival of the travelers everybody rushed down to the yard. Maester Luwin took little Rickon by the hand and Hodor carried Bran. Osha stood by Bran’s side. He knew Lady Stark was returning home with her two daughters, her personal shield, and a small host of men. He wondered if the wolves would return as well. He knew Sansa’s wolf had died, since the bones had been returned a long time ago. He wondered about Arya’s wolf, Nymeria. And Robb’s wolf – what was its name? Wind something. _Oh, my memory is starting to fail in my old age._

 

“Lady Stark, it’s so good to have you home” he greeted Catelyn

“Oh, Maester Luwin, it’s good to be home” she replied and Maester Luwin was taken aback when she embraced him and hugged him tightly. Immediately she turned her attention to her two boys.

“Oh, Bran, Rickon, you don’t know how much I have missed you!” she cried and fell to her knees to kiss Rickon. “Hodor, can you please lower my son?” she asked the gentle giant and planted a big kiss on Bran’s forehead.

 

Maester Luwin had never had children, so he could not even fathom the ache this woman must be feeling. But he could see it on her face and on the face of her two daughters and her two sons as they all held each other. He was glad to be part of this family. If everything went in their favor, Lord Robb – or should he say King Robb? – would be home soon and they would all be together. _All minus Lord Eddard_ , he added belatedly. This trip to the South had cost Winterfell dearly, and not just in money. Many good people had been lost.

 

Once everybody had got inside the castle walls the feast began. He was secretly proud of himself with what he had organized. Feast and festivities were usually organized by Lady Stark, so when she complimented him on what a good job he had done, he felt elated. He enjoyed watching the girls dance. Oh, how they had grown! Sansa was almost a lady now and Arya seemed much more … _tamed_? Well, he would never use that term in front of them, but it was nice to see her more mature. Rickon was beside himself with joy setting Nymeria and Shaggydog to race each other and talking to his sisters. However, just as he had expected, Bran was sitting by himself. He had seen his mother talking to him a short while ago, but now she was talking to that lady knight she had brought. She seemed decent enough, and if the Starks trusted her, then he had no reason no to.

 

When he sat down next to Lady Catelyn she was having a sip of wine. “Drink, Maester Luwin?” she offered pouring him a glass, but he politely declined. As a rule he did not drink. “Well, no reason to waste a perfectly good wine” she said and kept both glasses. “Tell me about my son, about Bran. How is he? I tried talking to him, but he is very quiet.”

“Bran has been … difficult these past few months. I can’t say I blame him, his injury was severe and had serious consequences. He resents not being able to walk and do the simplest of tasks.”

“Does he resent me?”

“No, my Lady” he answered far too quickly.

“I thought Maesters were not allowed to lie”

“He does not resent you my Lady, but he does feel he was abandoned.” When he heard her sharp intake of air he quickly continued. “Deep down I think he knows you did not abandon him, my Lady.”

“But I did” she interrupted him. “I left and took a long time to return.”

“Not by choice. And he knows that. He read all the letters you sent him.”

“But he never wrote back.”

“No, he didn’t. I tried my lady, but the boy has been just sad. I am hopeful that with your return and the return of his sisters he will become the joyful boy he once was.”

“He was joyful because he could run and play, Maester Luwin. He can’t do that any more. No amount of love I give him can return to him the use of his legs.” She finished the last contents of her glass as if to emphasize her point

“No, my Lady.” He answered not knowing what else to say. _That’s odd. She had never drunk in front of me before._

 

He wanted to meet with Lady Stark later that day to speak about financial matters and other affairs, but he couldn’t find her. He was told by Lady Brienne that she had retired early to her chambers.

“Brienne of Tarth. I knew a man from Tarth once, long ago. Caldon was his name, he studied at Oldtown with me”

“I’m afraid I never had the pleasure” she replied noncommittally.

“Of course not. He must have left Tarth when you were just a babe. So tell me, how did you come into the service of the Starks?” he asked her.

“I don’t serve the Starks, I serve Lady Catelyn” she said. Lady Brienne proved to be good company. She told her about her time with Renly Baratheon and how both she and Lady Catelyn had been accused of his murder. Lady Catelyn had tried to save her, but in the end she had saved herself in trial by combat. Having nowhere else to go she followed Catelyn’s advice and went to meet with Robb. She has been with them ever since. She fought with them at the Twins and now accompanied them to Winterfell.

“Do you plan to stay?”

“For as long as they will have me.”

“Then I suppose we’ll be seeing each other for all the days to come”

 

 

After breaking his fast the following morning he walked into the solar to find Lady Stark going over some paperwork.

“These past few months have been costly” she noted.

“Yes, my Lady. As most of the men went south, first with your husband and then with your son, not many able hands remained to do all the work: farming, tending to the animals, building, repairing, and all that.”

“You seem to have done an impressive job, Maester Luwin.”

“Years of watching you and your husband at work” he replied and immediately regretted it when her face stiffened at the mention of her husband.

“Oh, Ned” she sighed. “Why did all these things have to happen, Maester Luwin? Ned’s death, Bran’s accident, this bloody war? Which God did we anger?”

“I don’t think this is the work of the Gods, my Lady. This was all human.”

 

They spent the rest of the morning going over expenses reports and inventories, making new appointments, writing letters to be sent to Last Hearth, Bear Island, Deepwood Motte, the Karhold, and other Houses in the North. Most of them bore good tidings about their victory at the Twins and told the Houses of the progress made by Robb. However some of them wrote about casualties these Houses had had. Those letters were penned by Catelyn herself. They were still eagerly awaiting news from Harrenhal. The woman was overly concerned about her son, even if she tried not to show it. _If there is one thing I have always been good at is reading people, especially these people whom I have lived with for so long and to whom I have dedicated my life._

 

“What do you plan to do about the Dreadfort my Lady? Lord Roose Bolton’s bastard rules the castle now and we have been getting strange reports from the area.”

“Yes, I read them this morning before you came in. Young girls disappearing, suspicions of more flaying, even though it has been outlawed. We could send an army and force Ramsay Snow to swear fealty. His father was a turncoat, who’s to say he isn’t?”

“And who’s to say he is?” Luwin retorted.

She seemed to considered Luwin’s point of view. “Let’s summon him to Winterfell” she finally said. “Let’s see what he has to say about his father and the state of affairs in the North. If we get him to swear fealty we’ll allow him to keep the House but we’ll send someone we trust to watch over them. I’m thinking we could send Hokken or Norrey with some men.”

“Very well my Lady.”

 

Maester Luwin went back to his studies in his room. It felt good to have the family back. The girls filled the halls with laughter and songs. The men brought activity to an otherwise quiet yard.

 

The days slowly went by in pleasant atmosphere and everybody seemed to be getting back to their old routines. He would have his lessons with the boys, he would take care of his books and potions, he would talk to the farmers, the horse trainers, the dog keepers, the builders, the cooks, etc. And in the evening he would meet with Lady Stark to go over the events of the day.

 

“We have received news from the Vale” he told her one evening as soon as she entered the solar. “From your sister, Lady Lysa”

“I haven’t heard from her since I went to the Eyrie with Tyrion Lannister. She has adamantly refused to help us and Robb in this war” she said and grabbed the letter with trepidation. Her hands trembled and her expression hardened as she read the letter.

“Is anything amiss?” he asked politely trying not to interrupt her concentration. She took her eyes off the letter momentarily and looked at Maester Luwin with an expression he couldn’t quite read. _The last I had heard was that Lady Lysa was not quite right in the head. I hope these are not grave news._

“Apparently she has been living with Petyr Baelish all this time” she started once she had finished reading.

“The Maester of Coin?”

“Among other things” she sighed and rolled her eyes. For a moment Maester Luwin thought she would expand but she just closed her eyes, shook her head and continued. “The history of Petyr with my family goes back to when we were children and he was fostered at Riverrun. We were good friends as children, but my sister has always been enamoured of him.”

“So, that’s a good thing. She has found a husband after Lord Arryn’s unfortunate death” he prompted not really sure of what else to say.

“I would say yes if it weren’t Petyr” she snorted. “Well, in any case, they are not together any more. Apparently most of the Lords in the Vale resented and suspected Petyr. They held him responsible for Jon Arryn’s death, especially …” she scanned through the letter looking for the names “Lord Yohn Royce and Lady Waynwood. Petyr accused them of plotting to have my sister deposed but when Lysa listened to them she realized they were right. They claimed Petyr had poisoned Jon Arryn and was now trying to control the Vale through her. So in the end, my sister had Petyr put on trial and found him guilty of Jon Arryn’s death. He has been executed” she said pointing at one section in the letter. “Lysa says she is devastated. She can’t believe a person she had trusted and loved all her life would trick and betray her like that”

“Is she still ruling at the Vale, then?”

 “Yes, and she has come to our side” she smiled triumphantly. “She says she had sent an army to join with Robb and that she has received confirmation they were marching together to Harrenhal to fight against Tywin Lannister.”

“That’s good, my Lady.”

“With a bigger army my son’s chances of success have increased enormously” she finished and embraced a surprised Maester Luwin in a tight hug.

 

 

The news from the Vale was well received in Winterfell, as people became more confident of Robb’s success. Yet, as the days went by and no news arrived from the Young King, the happiness and optimistic sense of victory slowly started to ebb.

 

One night Lady Catelyn was later than usual to their evening meeting. When she finally came into the solar her eyes looked puffed and she smelled of wine.

“Sorry I’m late” she apologized.

“Not a problem my Lady. Is anything amiss?”

“You mean besides the fact that my husband is dead, one of my sons is a cripple and I haven’t heard from my oldest son in days?” she snapped venomously. He just nodded and stayed quiet. “Sorry Maester Luwin, I didn’t mean to be rude. I apologize.”

“Not a problem.”

“Still no news from Bolton?” she asked as she headed towards the liquor cabinet.

“According to his raven he should be here within the week.”

“I don’t know why Ned always kept wine here. He hardly drank” she smiled mirthlessly and poured herself a glass. She offered him a glass but he just shook his head.

_Maybe tonight we should steer clear official affairs. She does not seem to be in her right mind_ , Luwin thought. “So, I noticed you spent some time with your children today.”

“Yes” she smiled. “I had Hodor take Bran to the garden behind the stables. Sansa had made some lemon cakes and Arya had squeezed some orange juice. We had a really nice time. I plan to do that more often when Robb returns - that is if His Grace has any time to spare” she added with a hint of dejection.

“I’m sure he’ll make time for you and his siblings” Luwin said trying to sound supportive.

“To family time” she toasted to herself raising her glass.

“My lady, I don’t mean to be rude, but you seem to be drinking more than your usual fare lately”

“How dare you!? Is this the way you used to advise my Lord husband, by questioning his habits?” she cried outraged.

“No, but we never held a meeting while he was drunk”

 

_Slap. I guess I deserved it, but Gods, this woman can hit._

 

Lady Stark’s eyes went wide in shock and her hands went to her face. With a quick muttered apology she bolted out of the solar.

 

Maester Luwin debated whether to go after her or not. In the end he decided to give her some time and went back to his papers. Later that night, on his way to his room he made a detour to Lady Catelyn’s room and heard movement. _She is still awake, and it’s past midnight_. He knocked on her door and upon receiving no reply he let himself in. He was surprised to find her perched on a chair by the window. He was not surprised to see a glass in her hand.

 

“What’s wrong with me, Maester Luwin?” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “I’m trying to hold up best I can, but I just .. I’m just making a mess of everything.”

“No, you’re doing an admirable job considering the circumstances.”

“Admirable job?” she snorted. “Did you know that I killed the Kingslayer? With my bare hands?”

“I heard about it, yes” _Heard was an understatement._ Robb had written to him specifically to tell him of the events and had begged him to keep it to himself.

“And now I hit you. I cannot believe I did that”

“That’s alright. My cheek was not very pretty to begin with” he said trying to lighten up the mood. And her chuckle proved it had worked. “Why don’t we start by letting go of this?” he suggested grabbing the glass from her hands. _She didn’t fight me, that’s a good sign._

“Robb said I was drinking too much” she said sounding far away, her gaze lost into the distance through the window. “I thought I could handle it. And when I couldn’t, I thought I would be able to hide it.”

“You were never good at pretending, my Lady”

“I suppose I am not” she said turning to face the Maester. “At the beginning it helped me cope. I felt so alone. I was with Robb but he spent most of his time with his bannermen. I missed Ned and the girls and the boys. And then we received news of Ned’s execution. The girls were missing. Things started to happen. I was almost burned alive. Did you know about that?”

“Yes, I did.”

“I did things I’m not proud of. I said things I’m not proud of. I don’t know how much of it was the wine and how much my own rage and grief getting the best of me.”

“Probably both.”

“I am really sorry I hit you Maester Luwin.”

“I know you are” he said grabbing her hands. “Why don’t you go to bed? You must be tired.”

“Yes” she said as she got to her feet. “Thank you very much. For everything.”

 

Before Maester Luwin reached the door she called him again. “Can you take that with you, please?” she asked pointing at wine.

“Of course. That’s a good start” he smiled and walked away with the flagon.

 

 

 

When he saw her the following morning she looked much more refreshed, which was a good thing considering the events that were about to unfold. The alarm was sounded indicating riders were approaching. When they looked out of the battlements it was with relief they discovered the men coming through the gates sported Stark banners.

 

“Look what we found My Lady” Rodrik Cassel yelled from the yard. It was Ramsay Snow and twenty men. “We spotted them three days ago. They were plotting an attack on the castle” he told her as soon as she stepped out.

“With twenty men?” she asked the bastard of Bolton. “What were you trying to accomplish? You knew you would be outnumbered”

“I’m just that good” was his haughty reply.

“Obviously not good enough” she retorted. “Your father was killed at a wedding in which he betrayed his Liege Lord, now King Robb Stark. We summoned you to ask you to swear fealty and wipe your father’s treason clean. Yet, you plot to attack us. Take them to the dungeons, Ser Cassel.”

 

When they were gone she called Ser Hokken and instructed him to ride to the Dreadfort with a small army and assess the situation. If the castle was unmanned, he was to attack and take control, if they resisted he was to start a siege until they surrendered. “When Robb comes back he’ll deal with Ramsay and his men.”

 

“If Robb comes back …” she repeated to Maester Luwin once Ser Hokken had turned.

“He will come back my lady. Do not lose faith.”

 

 

It was hours later when he found himself in his rookery that the faith they had held was repaid. A raven arrived: Robb Stark was coming home.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: we'll get to see Joffrey's and Tywin's reactions to losing the North.  
> Thanks for reading and sticking around.  
> Comments are appreciated :)


	14. Relaying the News (Tyrion)

“Who does he think he is!?” King Joffrey was raging. “Traitors! The lot of them” the young King continued, spittle shooting from his lips. “They should all hang! Starting with the escort that brought my grandfather back. We should chop their heads! Just like we did Ned Stark!”

 

_If he keeps this up he’s going to burst an artery_ , thought Tyrion. Joffrey was frothing at the mouth as Tywin Lannister relayed every detail of the terms Robb Stark had sent him. He had never felt sorrier for his father. Here he was with a bandage on his injured hand, admitting defeat to a Courtroom full of people who looked at him with nothing but disdain. _Poor father! Look at him. He looks so broken._ Tywin Lannister had never suffered such a devastating blow; not only had he lost the battle, but Robb Stark had humiliated him, maimed him and butchered all his men. _His own Rains of Castamere._

 

“King in the North! He’s taking my Kingdom! We should send more men! We will send every men from the Reach and Dorne and crush them! Every men in the Crownlands and Casterly Rock will be forced to march!”

“That would not be wise, Your Grace. Our army has been dealt an almost fatal blow and we do not have many able fighting men left. We need some men to tend to the animals, the farms, the forgeries” Uncle Kevan started but was quickly interrupted by Joffrey.

“How dare you contradict me Uncle? I don’t see you holding a sword! You should all go too, you pack of cravens!” he addressed the people in the Hall. “You all stand there and say you are loyal to me, but none of you is grabbing a sword and telling me how you are going to march north and beat Robb Stark. He has taken MY kingdom, MY lands. He has taken The North, The Eyrie and the Riverlands! They are MINE by right!”Joffrey’s eyes were unfocused and he kept flailing his arms about as he yelled. _The Mad King come again? May the Gods save us._

 “My grandfather is an old fool, but what about your brother?” he turned to his wife Margaery now. “You keep saying you love me, yet you won’t lift a finger to help me. Send your brother, send your men!”

“Your Grace, my brother is …” she started only to be cut short by Joffrey again.

“A craven. A craven and a fool. Like everybody else. Robb Stark in no more than a scared baby hiding behind his mother’s skirts!” _And what are you?_ Tyrion wondered as Joffrey kept rambling. “And you grandfather!?” he turned to Tywin again. “I thought you were a good commander! All these tales of your strategic mind and your bravery are just lies! I should send you to the Black Cells!”

 

_Oh, somebody please gag this fool! Dreamwine, Maester, bring the dreamwine. Better yet, just bring some poison. Whoa! Stop there Tyrion. Did you just think about killing your own nephew! Bad Tyrion … Still, murderous desires notwithstanding, this madness has got to stop._

 

“Your Grace, with all due respect, why don’t we continue this discussion in the Small Council?” Tyrion suggested.   

“I believe he is right Joffrey” Cersei added. _This must be serious if my sister is supporting me._

“Alright. Out! All of you! Out!” the King ordered. “Margaery, Mother, Tyrion, Uncle Kevan, Grandfather, you shall stay. The rest of you out! Now!”

_Not quite the Small Council but it will do. Anything is better than the sorry spectacle we were giving._

 

“Your Grace, if you will please allow me” Uncle Kevan started and was visibly relieved when Joffrey nodded. “We had a good plan, but it failed. The wedding at the Twins, had it succeeded, would have allowed us to deal a serious blow to our opponents without a single drop of our blood being shed. It was a great strategy orchestrated by my brother.” _Good going Kevan, my father needs to save face._ “Unfortunately it failed and our rivals were able to amass a big army and beat us at Harrenhal. Would that things were different Your Grace.”

“We don’t need the North” Cersei continued. “It’s just a barren piece of useless ice. And their people are just as inhospitable”

“The Eyrie is almost inaccessible, a mountainous region not good for farming or anything of use” Tyrion continued. “And the people there, not a big loss either. Believe me, I know them. Well, with the exception of Mord, maybe” he chuckled to himself remembering the slow-witted giant who had guarded him in the sky cells. “Never mind” he muttered when nobody followed his train of thought.

“And the Riverlands” his father spoke for the first time since relaying Robb’s harsh terms to Joffrey. “Right now there is nothing there of value. It is a war ravaged land. The farms have burnt, the crops have rotted, the rivers are soiled with blood and waste, there are dead bodies strewn on the side of the roads. Maintaining the Riverlands would me more costly than the benefit you would reap.”

“I say let the Tullys keep it and sort it out. Lord Edmure is not the sharpest tool in the shed. When he looks the other way we can always go back and re-take it.” Kevan added.

“So you think I should just let the Stark boy have half my Kingdom?” Joffrey asked, his anxiety and restlessness apparently waning.

“Yes, Your Grace” said Tyrion

“Yes, Your Grace” echoed Kevan. “For now, at least” he added.

“Yes, my love” said Margaery.

 

_Come on, keep them coming. Come on Cersei, your turn now_ , Tyrion silently urged them.

 

“I concur” added Tywin. _Thank you Father, but I don’t think he values your opinion too much now._ “We can always take it back when they’re not expecting it”

“I also believe they are right, my son.” _Yes! He has to listen to us now. Come on Joffrey! Do something wise for a change._  

“Alright” Joffrey said after a long silence which had everybody fidgeting and turning in their seats. “We will meet Robb Stark’s terms, but we will not admit defeat.”

 

_Of course, my dear nephew. This is not a defeat. Just because they annihilated the biggest part of our army, cut off your grandfather’s fingers and sent him to us with his tail between his legs, and then they stole half your kingdom from right under our noses. Not to mention how they killed your uncle Jamie (father?). Of course it’s not a defeat, it’s a mere trivial setback._ Tyrion snorted to himself.

 

“Wise words Your Grace” he told his nephew instead.

Joffrey retired to his chambers with his wife and only Cersei, Kevan, Tywin and himself remained.

 

“Well, That went well” Tyrion commented flippantly. “Wine anyone?”

 

 

 

 

Tyrion wanted to make sure the surrender, _oh, scratch that, this is not surrendering according to my wise nephew,_ and the meeting of terms went without a hitch, so he met with the Northern men himself. There were many things they needed to sort out. The first order of business was to make the separation of the Kingdom official. With his father being incapacitated, Tyrion had been temporarily named Hand of the King, and it was in such capacity that he took it upon himself to draft the terms of their surrender. _Nope, scratch that: we did not surrender_ , his nephew’s shrill voice came to him and he couldn’t help but chuckle mirthlessly. The border between the Southern Kingdom and the North would be that of the Riverlands as it met with the Westerlands, The Reach and the Dragonlands. An exchange of prisoners was also agreed. The Northern party that had brought Tywin Lannister back from Harrenhal would leave alone. But in two moon’s turn they would meet again at Stony Sept and exchange prisoners and hostages from both sides. Tyrion asked for Jamie Lannister’s bones to be returned, as well.

 

“There’s something else” he told them. “I want you to give Robb Stark a gift from me, an apology of sorts. Tell him to use it wisely.” As SmallJon Umber opened the bundle Tyrion had given him, his eyes went wide and he nodded in appreciation and gratitude.   

“My Lords,” Tyrion addressed the Northern men before they parted ways. “Apparently this Game of Thrones is coming to an end. I can’t say it’s been a pleasure, but tell Robb Stark he has been a worthy adversary. I hope … Nevermind. Have a safe journey home. Enjoy your Kingdom” he waved. 

There were many things he hoped for. He had meant to ask about Sansa and her wellbeing. He wanted to make sure Lady Stark knew he had had nothing to do with her son’s assassination attempt and her husband’s death. He really respected Robb Stark and wished him all the luck – so long as they never had to cross paths again. But this was not the right time to say these things, nor were these gruff men the appropriate messengers.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the war is almost over. We're getting close to the end.  
> Thanks for reading :)


	15. The King the North Deserves (Robb)

_King in the North_ , the title echoed in his head as he toyed with his crown, his left hand slowly caressing the iron-forged spikes in the shape of longswords and the runes that had been hammered into them. The crown itself was made of bronze with the inscription _Winter is Coming_ engraved on the inside. The blacksmith at Riverrun who had forged it had made an impressive job to make it look like the crown of the Old Kings of Winter with the addition of three sigils: the direwolf, the leaping trout and the falcon, symbolizing the three leading Houses in the new territory.

 

His right hand went to the scabbard tied to his waist. When SmallJon had returned from King’s Landing and given him the bundle sent by the Imp all he had said was “The Imp has a gift for you, Your Grace. He wanted for you to have it and to use it wisely.” And he would. He would honor his father and his ancestors. His fingers traced the direwolf in the pommel and he felt the blood of his forefathers course through his veins. The Valyrian steel of the sword melted with his soul and he could see his father and his father before him holding the mighty sword. _Ice will guide us through the Winter._

 

_When we first set out, all I wanted was to free Father but the Lannisters made sure that could not be achieved. Nobody could have predicted where this journey would take us. I have to admit, when the name King in the North was first tossed around, I was excited. I would be a King and I would avenge Father. Mother did not fully agree. I still remember her face, a mixture of pride and fear. Then, when we got my sisters back I was ready to give it all up. I was ready to just marry my Frey betrothed and come home. But then these cursed Lannisters were at it again. That bloody wedding! To hell with the Lannisters, to hell with the Boltons, to hell with the Freys, and to hell with my wife. Roslin claimed she knew nothing about it. I find that hard to believe. … In any case, I made sure no harm would come to her._

 

The Battle at Harrenhal had been fierce. Bloody and fierce. Yes, they had achieved a great victory. A victory that would be remembered for years to come. But it had not come cheap. Many men had been lost in the battle. And he had also lost a bit of himself. He did not regret what he had done to the Lannister army, but the images of the dying men and their cries as they were being executed still haunted his dreams and came back to plague his waking moments. Had he erred in doing so? Had he become a monster? He had indeed ordered the massacre of bound men. But these men were his enemies, his friends had told him. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder … _My father would have never killed those men in cold blood like I did. Then again, those men were fighting for the boy that killed my father._

 

This victory would not have been achieved without his aunt’s support. Lord Yohn Royce had joined them at the outskirts of the Twins just as they were starting their march to Harrenhal. He had explained how he and other leading Lords and Ladies in the Vale suspected Petyr Baelish of manipulating Lady Lysa in order to gain full control of the Vale. His aunt had fallen victim to Baelish’s connivance but was very quick to see his treacherous nature when she realized he had in fact killed Jon Arryn. So set was Lady Lysa in condemning Lord Baelish that his speedy trial had had but one outcome from the start. According to Lord Royce, Lady Lysa barely gave Baelish a chance to defend himself. “Lady Lysa was broken that her trusted friend had betrayed her so; when Baelish was pushed down the Moon Door, her cries could be heard all over the Halls” Lord Yohn Royce had said. Robb felt for his aunt, he knew what betrayal tasted like. Yet, he was not fully convinced of what had prompted his aunt’s sudden change of heart – she had paid no heed to his requests for help for months.

 

_So here we are, at Harrenhal, getting ready for another celebration. A celebration of victory. We have received a delegation from King’s Landing accepting our terms and the secession of the North from the rest of the Kingdom. Finally, the Riverlands, the Eyrie and the North will answer to their own King. Maybe in years to come this date will be revered as the beginning of the New Times. Or maybe it will be dreaded. Who knows what time will bring. Maybe my children’s children and their children will enjoy a freedom my parents and I never had. Or maybe in years to come, the people will decide they want to be part of the Seven Kingdoms again. But it will be their choice, not some cruel joke of a King from the Iron Throne who imposes his will upon our people. But for now, this is what the people wanted and this is what the people chose. So tonight we celebrate._

 

 

Surrounded and forced to surrender Harrenhal to Tywin Lannister during the war, Lady Shella Whent was more than pleased to be given her house back. However, she was an old woman with no live descendants. Lord Hoster Blackwood of Raventree, Tytos’s third son, was named Lady Whent’s heir in the event of her death. That way Harrenhal would remain in Riverland hands under a family who had proven loyal to both Riverrun and King Robb. In addition, Harrenhal being so close to Raventree meant they could always count on Hoster’s father for support.

 

The first task Lady Whent and Hoster Blackwood undertook together was to prepare for the victory celebration which was to take place in Harrenhal itself. Theon Greyjoy acting as newly appointed Lord of the Crossing offered to preside over the ceremony, and Robb was more than happy to oblige.

“It is a great pleasure, and one of the greatest honors ever bestowed on me, to introduce you to your new King. King Robb Stark, King of the Andals and the First Men; King of Iron and King of Bronze; King of the Old and the New Gods; King of the Seven and the Northern Gods; King of the Green Riverlands, and mountainous Eyrie and the Icy North. One King to unite us all.”

 

After Theon’s introduction came a very rousing speech from Lord Brynden Tully speaking on behalf of Lysa Arryn from the Eyrie and then Edmure Tully as Lord Paramount of the Riverlands. It was agreed the Blackfish would go back to the Eyrie and help Lady Lysa and the Arryn boy. Robb had never met his cousin, but the few words he had heard about him were not very encouraging. Hopefully with Brynden’s guidance Robin Arryn would grow up to be strong and wise to rule the Vale from his seat in the Eyrie. As for Edmure Tully, Robb did not hold his mother’s brother in the highest of regards. Yet, he had proven himself loyal and respectful and now that his grandfather was gone, he would have to rely on him to maintain the order in the Riverlands.

 

The Riverlands were dangerously close to the border with the Southern Kingdom, and should the Lannisters ever decide to attack, this would be their first point of entry. Southern towns like Stony Sept and Pinkmaiden were to be fortified and to have their armies tripled. There were to be soldiers constantly patrolling the border, at least for the time being until things calmed down. As for the Iron Islands, Theon was confident he could bring them into the Kingdom. There were reports of Balon Greyjoy being dead but they were still unconfirmed. Should he be dead, there would be a Kingsmoot held soon, and Theon’s name would be the one to carry the most weight. Theon had agreed to stay at the Twins and leave the Islands to his sister Asha. He was confident he could count on her to bring the Islands into the new Kingdom. But this still hinged on the reports of Balon Greyjoy’s death being true. Robb had the utmost trust in his fried Theon, a friend he considered almost a brother. _Now and always_ , they had vowed.

 

When the celebrations and festivities were over, Edmure returned with his men to Riverrun and Brynden Tully departed for the Eyrie with the men from the Vale. Theon returned to his new castle at the Twins and had promised to get in contact with his sister to see about the Iron Islands. Robb had also made him promise no harm would come to Roslin for the attempted betrayal at the wedding. Robb felt no love for her, but did not consider her, nor her sisters and cousins, responsible for what her father had done. Theon would see to it that the men behind the treason were punished and those who were declared innocent would be granted freedom within the walls of the Twins. It had also been decided that many of the Frey children were to be fostered with different families across the Riverlands, the Eyrie and the North to prevent them from conspiring together in the future.

 

 

A little over a year ago the future heir to Winterfell had left home a boy - and now Robb was returning home a King. He had decided to take the longer route over land instead of rushing home by boat. He wanted to see his lands and greet his subjects personally: talk to them, shake their hands, eat their food, drink their ale, and share their hospitality. He wanted to be the King the people wanted.

 

When he finally saw the walls of Winterfell getting close in the horizon his heart leapt with joy. He then saw the riders approach to bid him welcome and usher him back home. To his greatest surprise, one of the riders was his younger brother Bran. The contraption the Imp had devised made you almost forget Bran had lost the use of his legs. It was to the sound of trumpets and drums that King Robb Stark rode through the Gates of Winterfell. He felt humbled when he saw Maester Luwin, Mikken, Rodrik Cassel and all the people he considered family kneeling before him. _I am their King now_ , he thought not without a hint of apprehension. He dismounted and went straight to his mother and his siblings. He then addressed all the men and women cheering his name.

 

“Here we are, the Starks of Winterfell together again. The North is once again free of the yoke of the South, ready to rule ourselves. We have been joined by our brothers in the Riverlands and the Vale. Men and women who have fought with us against the tyranny of a King who thought the was above the Gods. A King who murdered my father, Lord Eddard Stark, and countless others. We have fought and we have prevailed.

 

“They called this the War of the Five Kings. Both Renly Baratheon and Balon Greyjoy are dead. Let Joffrey deal with Stannis Baratheon on his own. We have no interest in their sun-baked southern lands and their horrid Iron Throne. Long live our new Kingdom! Long live its people! Long live our freedom!” he yelled raising Ice up into the skies.  

 

His cry was soon echoed by the people standing in the yard. “Long live the Kingdom!” “Long live the King!”

 

Later that night he met with his family in an intimate celebration, just his mother, his two sisters and his two young brothers. This was not a lavish victory celebration like the one at Harrenhal, the ones he had attended at the different towns and castles he had passed on the way home and even the one his Mother had organized for him when he arrived. This was a celebration of love for the people they cared about the most, of joy for being all together again; of relief for being safe and sound back home; and of course of grief for the loss of their father.  

 

“It was a good gesture of Tyrion Lannister to return your father’s sword” his mother said softly.

“Yes, it was” he agreed and shared a longing look with is mother.

“Who are you going to name Hand of the King?” Bran asked excitedly interrupting Robb’s musings.  

“Can you call Jon?” Arya blurted out. Robb saw his mother’s jaw tense and her lips tighten, but she remained silent.

“I don’t think I can. He’s a member of the Night Watch, he has said his vows. But I’m sure we’ll see him again soon” he smiled at his sister.

“What about Ser Clegane?” suggested Sansa. “He’s brave and he has proven loyal to you.”

“Yes, he is, and he has. But I’m not sure he is Hand material. And besides, he’ll have another title.”

“What have you named him?”

“He has asked to be your personal guard, and I’ve said Yes” he said with a grin. Robb knew his sister cared deeply for this man who had saved her.

“So, Sansa has the Hound” started Arya “I’m not sure I have forgiven him for killing Mycah yet, but he’s been nice to Sansa” she added in between grunts. “Then mother has Brienne, Bran has Osha and Hodor. Can I be Rickon’s personal guard?”

“Yes!” Rickon shouted with excitement at the same time as his mother gasped in exasperation.

Robb winked knowingly at his mother and added a placating “Yes, of course, Arya” to which Catelyn just shook her head, rolled her eyes and smiled.

“Your father would be so proud” his mother told him.

“We have all suffered greatly” he replied. He looked at Sansa and remembered everything she had told him of his father’s execution and Joffrey’s cruelty; he looked at Arya and thought about all the evil she had seen and experienced, even some atrocious acts she had committed herself; then his eyes fell on Bran and his scrawny twisted legs, with a lump in his throat he remembered his brother would never climb or run again; he wondered what Rickon felt about the whole ordeal his family had been through; did he understand that their father was gone? did he understand that his brother was a King and he was, by definition, a Prince? Finally he set his eyes on his mother. She had been his rock for the longest part of the war, he had depended on her counsel and strength, yet he knew she had suffered greatly. He knew how she still ached for her husband, he knew how she had suffered when her daughters were missing and the uncertainly she had felt every time he rode off into battle, he knew she had missed her two youngest sons terribly for the whole duration of their time apart. He still remembered what she looked like when she returned from Bitterbridge all battered, dirty and singed. He still remembered with a pang in his heart the anguish he had felt when he had had to imprison her. _But she forced my hand._ And he knew the toll all this had taken on her. So he was glad to see that she had barely touched a drink during the celebration and was now sharing apple juice with her children – and he knew he had Maester Luwin to thank for that in great part. “But we’re all here, we’re all together, Mother. It’s over” he said and grabbed her hand.

“I know” she smiled and could not help the tears running down her face. “I know.”

 

 

Everything seemed to be falling into place. The Riverlands were still a shambles, but Robb had faith Edmure and his vassals would do a fine job to restore them. The petty squabbles between some of the River Houses seemed to be under control and the people were more than willing to stick together now that they had suffered the scourge of war. The Lords of the Vale had all sworn allegiance to him and he had the utmost faith his mother’s uncle would be of great help to steer Lysa Arryn and her son in the right direction. He had also received word from Theon that his sister Asha was in charge of the Iron Islands now that Balon Greyjoy had died and he was exerting all his influence on her to bring her into the newly-formed Kingdom. As for the North itself, Maester Luwin had done a very good job guiding Bran in his absence during the war. The only problem seemed to be the Boltons, but Roose Bolton had been dealt with back at the Twins and his son Ramsay would spend the rest of his days in a dungeon in Winterfell - his treachery when he tried to attack an undermanned Winterfell could not go unpunished. His mother had taken the right course of action when she had sent Hokken to take the Dreadfort. The Northern Kingdom was definitely taking shape.

_King in the North, the Riverlands and the Eyrie. Soon the Iron Islands? … Who would have thought? Me, Robb Stark. Am I worthy of these titles? I had better be. Too many people are counting on me. And too many people have died for it._

_I will be the King the North deserves._

 

 

*************************************************

 

Meanwhile at Dragonstone:

 

“Azor Ahai. You swore I was Azor Ahai, the Prince that was promised!” Stannis roared. “You promised I would be King. Yet my life has been nothing but a set of denials and deprivations” he continued as he paced around the room. “My brother Robert should have given me Storm’s End, yet he gave it to Renly and I was given this useless rock. When my time came to be King, it was my younger brother who challenged me. The throne was mine by right. I am Robert’s heir!” he shouted thumping his chest. “Joffrey is a bastard and no true son of Robert’s, Renly was younger than me, and neither Balon Greyjoy nor Robb Stark had any credible claim whatsoever. Yet, the bastard boy sits in King’s Landing and the self-proclaimed wolf rules the other half of the Kingdom. My Kingdom” he paused and stood by the window. “Even my old Hand has abandoned me” he said looking longingly out into the sea. “I received news from Ser Davos. He said he had gone back to his wife and children. I wish him well” his voice denoting the affection he felt for the Onion Knight.

“They are all traitors, Your Grace” Melisandre replied. “Your brothers, Joffrey Waters, Robb Stark, even your old Hand.”

“Not Davos. Even when he abandoned me, he did it for my sake. I believe him” and he truly did. Davos had reaffirmed so in his letter. He still maintained that killing the Stark woman would have had nefarious consequences for Stannis and his followers since it would have set young Robb Stark against him. Davos also mentioned something about how the Gods would have never forgiven him for that. _But those are not my Gods. My one true God is R’hllor, the Lord of Light._

“Yes your Grace.”

“Stop calling me Your Grace. There is no crown on my head. I was denied everything that was mine by right!”

“Do not fret Azor Ahai. You are indeed the Prince that was Promised. And your time will come” she said ominously.

 

Stannis stood by the window again and gazed out into the distance. _I wonder when that time will come …_

 

 

 

THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we've reach the end of the story ... 
> 
> This story was mainly about the North, the Starks and their plight. They have reached the happy ending (I think) they deserve. The Starks are all together, safe and sound (well, minus Ned). Robb is King in the North and it is up to Joffrey and his advisors to fix the mess they have in the South. Hopefully, the North, the Vale and the Riverlands will find in Robb the King they deserve: a King who will fight for them and do his best to ensure the well-being of his people. 
> 
> The fanfic is finished, but their history is by no means over ... What will Stannis do? Will Joffrey and the Lannisters honor their terms in the secession agreement? Or will they try to re-take the Riverlands and the rest? How will sweet Robin fare as Lord of the Eyre? How will Theon do as Lord of the Crossing? Will the Iron Islands agree to join the new Northern Kingdom? Will events unfold North of the Wall that might force Robb and his people to go to war once more? 
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of the story :) 
> 
> Thank you very much for reading, especially to those who have left comments and kudos!


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